Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1127255.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Louis_Tomlinson, Harry_Styles
  Additional Tags:
      larry_-_Freeform, Psychopathology_&_Sociopathy, larry_stylinson_-
      Freeform, Underage_Louis, psycho!Harry, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Violence,
      Bondage, Smut, Insanity, Hurt_Harry_Styles, Dom_Harry, Sub_Louis, Leather
      Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-01-09 Updated: 2015-02-25 Chapters: 6/? Words: 73558
****** Trust Beyond Mistake ******
by daniyaknow
Summary
     Harry Styles has just escaped from a mental institution, he manages
     to break into a young boy's house, conveniently the boy is by
     himself.
     Eventually, Harry sees the spark in Louis and grows fond of him, in a
     strange way...
Notes
     READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING THE STORY~
     this started out on omegle, not my prompt.
     Full credit to owner!
     However 1disafantasy and I did write the one shot :)
     Hope you like it.
     **excuse any grammatical mistakes**
     NOTE: you can also find me (daniyaknow) on raysofmalik.tumblr.com
     and me (1disafantasy) on the1dlookalikes.tumblr.com
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson sighed softly as he stepped out of his shower,
wrapping a big, fluffy towel around his waist. He walked out of the steamy
bathroom, and down the hall to his room. He was home alone for about another
week, as it was summer vacation and his parents were out of town.
He walked into his room, turning on the radio and pulling on a pair of tight,
black boxers before pulling an extra large, cream colored jumper over his head;
he never wore pants to bed. He sat down on his bed, hoping to fall asleep
quickly.
Louis was one of those boys too innocent for his age, that blushed at just
about anything.
"There's a psychopath on the loose, he's just broken out of the mental
hospital. If you see him, please call the police immediately." Louis's eyes
opened instantly, shivers running down his spine. The mental hospital was just
down the block. He jumped as he heard a sound from downstairs, stepping up from
his bed shakily and walking towards the door.
He stepped into the hallway nervously, his jumper falling over his small, slim
frame and halfway down his thighs, the sleeves almost covering his hands as he
walked down the staircase. He bit his lip as the darkness enveloped him at the
bottom of the steps, looking around with wide eyes.
"H-hello? Is anyone there?" He asked nervously, cradling his arms to his chest
and pressing his legs together.
He jumped when he felt a large hand on the inside of his small, smooth thigh,
slowly traveling its way up.
The curly haired boy had been locked since he was young, about 16, accused of
rape, murder, kidnapping, etc.
He was now 20 years old.
His wrists were marked as they had tried to restrain him from harming himself
and other people, but now… he was free.
Out of that stupid, mental institution.
He was still wearing the clothing of the place, slight sweat made his curls
stick to his forehead as he ran as fast as he could through the streets, and he
stopped in front of a house. He scanned it, before managing to go inside. He
made sure to lock everything and grabbed a knife from the kitchen, heading to
the living room. He was ready to kill anyone that dared to interfere with his
path.
The room was empty, he smirked, even though he was a bit disappointed.
He turned on the lights, looking around the room, there was a boy in most of
the pictures around.
He was beautiful.
He sighed as soon as he heard a voice echo around the house. He turned the
light back off and made his way to the origin of the voice, the knife still in
his hands. His expression softened just a bit as he looked at the shaky boy
standing before him, the pretty boy from the pictures.
He was so lucky.
It wasn't long before his large, cold hand was running up the boy's warm thigh,
a smug grin on his lips.
He felt the boy jump, but he continued his actions.
Louis tried to push his legs together and cease the other stranger's hand from
moving any further.
He shivered, his skin trembling not only at the fact that he was being touched
by a criminal, but because the person's hand was so fucking cold. He opened his
mouth to speak, his body taking a few seconds to actually produce any words.
"W-what- who are you?" He asked, though the person's identity was the least of
his concerns. He just wanted him out of his house.
It was obvious that this boy was definitely known as dangerous so he tried not
to struggle. He turned his head just a tad, his eyes peeling next to him to see
the face of somebody who was not too much older than him, though he couldn't
see too well with the lightless room; the only light source being the one in
the hallway.
Harry just smirked as the boy tried to stop him from going any further. He
stopped moving his hand, but he kept it pressed against his thigh. An
egocentric laugh escaped his lips next.
"Thought most people would know who I am by now." His deep voice echoed into
his ear, pressing his pink lips against it, "My name's Harry, cutie. Care to
tell me yours or am I gonna have to make you tell me?" He asked, pressing
another kiss to his skin as he slowly pulled his hand back from his thigh and
slid it through his body, nails digging into the skin of his hips.
"Speak." He growled into his ear, the knife still resting on his free hand, his
slender fingers wrapped firmly around it, making his knuckles go white from the
force he was applying.
Louis chewed in the inside of his cheek and held his eyes shut, Harry's nails
making his skin sting. He didn't want any trouble, it was easy to tell.
"L-Louis" he answered in a shaky stammer, keeping still as if his body was
frozen to the living room floor.
"Please," he started, not really even sure what he was asking for.
To be let go?
To not get hurt?
For Harry to leave?
Any of those would be acceptable right now, but he settled.
"Please don't hurt me. I w-won't say anything." He assured.
As soon as he heard the boy utter his name, he smiled sweetly at himself, just
an act, really. He immediately withdrew his nails from the boy's skin, putting
his jumper back down.
"I'm not hurting you." He assured him, his body still pressed to his back, "At
least not yet. If you don't give me any problems I won't. And I'm sure you
won't say a single word about me being here." He told him, taking in his scent,
"God, you smell like strawberries. Why?" He questioned.
He gulped as he sunk his nose into the boy's wet hair, "You smell so good, do
you taste just like that?" He asked, gulping, before his plump, pink lips were
pressing against his neck, slightly parted.
Louis gasped and tilted his neck, not giving more access but instead trying to
get Harry's mouth away from him.
He didn't know if he should respond to Harry, would he dig himself even deeper
into this? He knew that he couldn't just leave he couldn't just leave Harry
unanswered.
"I-I don't know." He said with not one single ounce of confidence, "What do you
want from me?" He finally managed to ask, the things he wanted to know ever
since he found out about the extra presence in his home.
The older male nipped carefully at his skin, tongue slightly making contact
with his neck, before a small laugh escaped his lips, "You do taste like it,
too…" he stated. He bit on his lesser lip next, humming as he thought of an
answer, "I want you to take me to your room…" He finally told him, and the
blade of the knife he had in hands was now being pressed against his soft,
delicate skin, "Go on. Walk." He groaned, pressing the blade even further
against him, almost cutting, but not quite.
Louis hissed and retreated away from the knife that was digging into his side.
He began to walk, Harry's body still pressed skin tight against his own.
He lead Harry up the stairs, making sure to be slow so he didn't cause himself
any harm. He turned into his bedroom when he had reached it, going inside only
a few steps before he stopped and brought a hand up to his neck, wiping away
Harry's moisture from his skin.
Harry followed Louis carefully through the stairs, not once did he remove the
blade from his side, he may have even pressed harder, as the other wiped his
neck. He put the knife down, pushing Louis away from himself and against the
bed. The lights were on, revealing his beautiful features. He glanced at Louis,
smiling, "You're prettier in person than in the pictures." He spoke, sighing.
He stuck the knife against a wooden drawer and slowly started to undress
himself from the disgusting hospital clothing.
They were dirty and he just despised it. He was wearing no shoes, just a pair
of muddy, ripped socks.
Louis stayed on his bed, looking down at his hip and side which were slightly
scraped for the blade of the knife. He stared wide eyes at Harry as he began to
strip himself.
"What are you doing?" He asked, his voice and tone breathy. He pulled his knees
to his chest and covered them with the hem of his large sweater, knowing that
running and trying to escape was completely pointless and hazardous.
His eyes trailed up and down Harry's body as each article of clothing was
slowly and devilishly removed and tossed to the floor.
Harry pushed the white clothing away from him, "What does it look like? It's
disgusting." He scoffed, referring to the clothing.
He ran his hands through his curls. His arms were scarred as well as his back
and torso, all of his body looked injured and fragile, most of the things were
done by himself, though. Other than that, he was absolutely beautiful.
Harry thought Louis was gorgeous, he really did.
"Stop staring, and take your clothes off." He ordered with yet another growl,
jaw clenching tightly.
Louis shook his head furiously. There's only so much he would take.
"No. No way." He protested, his attempt to sound confident failing miserably.
He wrapped his arms around his knees and kept them there tight, averting his
eyes from Harry's body and looking down at his feet. He barely had any clothing
on to begin with, only his boxers and his large sweater, and it was bad enough
that he was already revealing so much. He could not, would not undress for this
stranger.
Harry stared at him motionless. His jaw was tightly clenched and his hands were
turned into tight, furious fists. His emerald orbs burnt into Louis' skin, "I'm
not repeating it again. Take your clothes off, every single piece." He ordered,
raspy and angry voice coming out of his mouth.
If Louis wasn't as pretty as he was, Harry would be fucking him against the
wall already, he would have ripped his clothes off and just raped him into
oblivion, but instead he is /telling/ him to take his clothes off.
Things are gonna turn bad though, if he doesn't do as he says, Harry's going to
get desperate and frustrated.
Louis thought about protesting once more, then his eyes were locked onto the
knife that was so effortlessly stabbed into his dresser top.
He didn't want that to happen to him.
He felt his eyes stinging and starting to well up but he stood nonetheless. He
planted his feet on the floor and avoided any eye contact with Harry and he
gripped the hem of his sweater, pulling it up and over his head. He tossed it
to the floor and waited a few seconds before starting to push down his boxers,
a single tear escaping his eyelid and streaming down his perky cheeks.
His boxers pooled at his feet and he kicked them away, keeping both hands
cupped over his bits.
Harry stared as the feathery haired male slowly started to undress himself. His
eyes traveled up and down his naked torso, letting a soft sigh escape his pink
lips. He raised his brows, signaling the sixteen year old to continue removing
his boxer briefs. He caught a quick glimpse of him, until his small hands
cupped over his groin.
He frowned deeply.
"Remove your hands and lay down on the bed for me." He ordered, his body
resting on the dresser where he had stabbed the knife. Harry was still wearing
his boxers, that slowly were tightening a bit. His slender fingers ran through
his curls again.
Louis sniffled and tried his best to hold everything in that threatened to
escape. He shuffled sideways to crawl onto the bed, putting his hand straight
and flat at his sides. He turned his head to actually look at Harry, his eyes
canning down his heavily tattooed and scarred body.
He wouldn't ask.
He didn't care what had happened to him. All he cared about at the moment was
not getting killed or hurt. He didn't want to be touched by Harry, who would?
He didn't want his innocence to be taken carelessly away from a sick person.
Harry looked at Louis as he laid on the bed, he really was beautiful. The young
boy looked so innocent, so small and fragile, something that made Harry like
him even more, to want him more than before.
After a few minutes his eyes met Louis' beautiful blue ones, and Harry frowned
again, "Stop giving me that look."
His hands immediately flew to cover his wrists, not like his look at all. He
groaned, pushing himself away from the dresser. He walked towards the bed,
sliding his own boxers down his long, milky legs. He crawled on the bed,
straddling over Louis' body, his slender fingers cleaning the tears off his
cheeks. He pressed a kiss to each one of his cheeks, "There's no need for you
to cry, at least not yet. I haven't even done anything." He said carefully.
Louis felt like he could cry even harder just at the thought of Harry doing
things to him.
He was prepared for that though.
He tried not to look at Harry somewhere that he wasn't supposed to, not wanting
to make him seem like he wanted this. But Louis hated himself for thinking that
Harry was actually pretty gorgeous.
It made this all even worse. He didn't want this, yet he felt a small amount of
arousal building up in the pit of his stomach.
"Please," he said, breath hitching, once again not sure about what he wanted.
For Harry to stop or to continue. He knew Harry was getting harder between
their bodies, it wasn't hard to miss.
Harry grabbed Louis' hands by his wrists, pinning them above his head, his
nails digging into his skin just slightly, "Shhh..." He shushed him, before he
leaned down to kiss at his neck again, sucking softly. He could feel himself
harden against Louis' body. He wanted Louis so bad, to feel him around himself
already. He wanted to fuck him more than he ever wanted anyone else.
"You're really pretty, Louis." He whispered into his ear, making sure to
verbalize his name seductively. He brushed himself against Louis by grinding
their hips together.
Louis whimpered and tried to wiggle away from Harry, failing since his body was
much smaller than Harry's and he wasn't strong enough. He shook his head,
though he knew it was useless.
He felt awful, absolutely awful that his cock twitched due to the friction
Harry was creating between the two of them. He clenched his eyes shut, his hand
balling into fists which incidentally made Harry's nails dig even further into
his skin. It took almost all he had in himself to not grind upwards against
Harry's crotch.
He didn't want this.
He needed to remember that.
Harry smirked against Louis' neck, nipping at his skin, making sure to leave
love bites in visible places. He held his wrists with only one hand now, his
now free one sliding into Louis' hair and grabbing hold of it, tugging harshly
at it to tilt his head to the side, forcing him to an angle where he had
absolute access to him. He took his warm skin in between his teeth, before
finally pulling away, the marks of his teeth staining to him. He smirked even
wider, admiring Louis' features carefully, before kissing his tears away, the
grip at his hair tightening.
"You're /starting/ to grow hard for me, now aren't you?" He chuckled, letting
go his wrists and sliding his hand in between their bodies, making his way to
Louis' lower region.
Louis groaned and arched his back slightly, his eyes clenched shut.
"No no no!" He protested, taking the opportunity to snake his hand by Harry's
and grab onto his wrist.
"I c-can't help it," he assured, and he really couldn't. The friction was just
naturally making him become aroused. Louis sighed, in almost a defeated manner,
his breath shaking. He knew he could kick and push Harry off of him, not
avoiding some struggle, however, but for some reason, he just didn't want to.
Harry locked his emerald eyes with
Louis' blue ones as he made his way down to his cock, but a small hand
restrained him as soon as he was going to wrap his fingers around him. He
could've easily pushed him away and continue his doing, but he didn't, he just
frowned.
"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, obviously mad. He pushed himself
off his lap and bed, heading towards what he thought was Louis' closet, his
hands fiddling around in search of something in specific.
Louis crossed his legs and propped himself up on his elbows, watching Harry's
every move. 'Run!' His mind was telling him, but he ignored doing the smart and
logical thing.
"What are you looking for?" He asked genuinely curious, hoping it wasn't
anything that could harm him.
His cock was now half hard against his hip and he laid one hand over it to try
and block it. It was embarrassing, yes, but it was also disgusting how he was
feeling so horny when a rapist was touching him and ordering him around.
Harry slightly grimaced as the boy spoke again, he gripped a hanger tightly
with his hands, he turned to look at him, glaring "Shut up!" He spat, anger
washing over his body.
"You talk too much, shut it." He frowned, turning back to the closet. He smiled
for himself as he finally found what he was looking for: belts.
Two shiny, leather belts. He bit on his lip, nodding. He turned back to Louis
and started to walk to the bed, he sat on the edge of one side, holding out his
huge hand, "Give me your hand." He ordered, darting his tongue out to
moisturized his pink, plump lips.
Louis widened his eyes at his belts in Harry's hands, curling his fingers into
his bed sheets until his knuckles turned white. He didn't want to be tied up.
He should've just sat still. He hesitantly lifted his hand, reaching it out and
placing it in Harry's hand, his arm trembling slightly.
"Please don't, I'll be still." He tried to convince, though he wasn't quite
sure how long he would be able to keep that promise.
Harry grabbed Louis' trembling arm and slowly tied it up to the headboard, he
moved on to his other hand, "No." He simply said, using the other belt for the
other hand. They were tight around Louis' wrists, "I won't take any chances."
He added, before placing himself back on his lap.
He actually smiled, admiring his work so far with Louis. He then leaned down,
pressing his lips to Louis' thin ones, his hands resting on the mattress.
Louis whimpered against Harry's mouth, tugging on his belted restraints and
hating the feeling of the dry, shiny leather rubbing raw against his skin. He
turned his head to the side and Harry's lips instead moved to his cheek.
'At least /act/ like you don't want this' he kept repeated to himself, his toes
curling to occupy his body from arching up and giving in to Harry's touch and
lips. He kept his eyes closed, not as tightly as before but tight nonetheless,
his cock twitching once again though Harry wasn't even moving against him.
Harry frowned, he was getting so mad, and so quickly. He raised his big hand
and in a swift manner it slapped across Louis' face, "If I kiss you, you don't
turn away from me." He ordered, his slender fingers gripping together his
cheeks, making his lips scrunch up like a fish. He let go his head, jaw
clenching. He had completely lost his patience with Louis. Harry stared at him,
he took in a deep breath, before lowering his whole body to Louis' lower
region, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and slowly started to pump. He
wanted Louis to be hard in order to actually enjoy fucking him, or maybe he
just wanted to tease.
Louis whipped his eyes open and stared up at Harry, his cheek stinging from the
harsh blow that he had been delivered.
"M's-sorry" he stammered, his mouth then hanging open and his hips rolling
upwards into Harry's fist without even thinking. He chewed the inside on the
inside of his bottom lip, trying his best to keep his moans and other approving
sounds to himself. He felt himself hardening against his will, his leg
spreading a bit wider than they were already forced, by Harry's body, to be.
"Shit," he breathed out, not even realizing his encouragement.
Harry smirked for himself, pumping Louis harder and faster.
His own cock was throbbing, begging for friction. He leaned down, pressing a
soft kiss to the head of Louis' forming erection, slightly brushing the tip of
his tongue against the slit, he then pulled away.
"I bet you'd like to ride me, wouldn't you?" He asked, "if I removed the belts
from your hands, I bet you'd ride me so hard..." He breathed, pumping faster,
his thumb brushing against the tip several times, "Are you a virgin?" He asked,
withdrawing his hand from his groin and starting to press kisses up his torso,
before intertwining his fingers with his hair and holding it close to his own.
Louis clenched his teeth together as bucked his hips upwards, wanting more than
he was being given. He was nodding his head furiously, almost writhing on the
bed. "Y-yeah, wanna-" he started, quickly stopping himself before he said
something he would regret.
"I am. Never been fucked before," he stated, his voice completely rid of any
fear or hesitance this time.
Harry stared at Louis, before chuckling, "You're a little slut." He stated, "So
fucking needy you'd allow a murderer, a rapist take your virginity..." He
murmured, spreading his legs even wider.
He held them there for a few seconds as he started to push his tip inside
Louis.
He didn't even bother to stretch him up a little, not even a single time. He
just pushed his cock inside his tight hole, letting a loud moan escape from his
lips.
Louis screamed, literally /screamed/, a blood curdling and choked out high
pitched scream.
"Fuck!" He yelled, Harry's completely dry cock forcing itself inside of his
tight, virgin hole.
"Please, shit- fucking hurts" he sobbed, his eyes filling once again and his
tears repeatedly escaped down his cheeks.
No fingering, no lube, condom or even fucking /spit/, just skin inside of skin.
He yanked roughly on his restraints, not minding the intense scrape from the
leather.
"God- please use /something/" he begged, trying to pull himself up on the bed
so Harry would slide out of him, at least a little bit, but he failed.
Harry bit on his lip harshly as he thrusted all the way into the young boy. He
listened to his screams, his begging. He did not bother to do any of the
suggested things, he just remained inside him.
He /knew/ it hurt, oh hell he did.
He had listened to those words lots of times, before getting locked. He didn't
move a muscle, he just breathed, chest hitting against chest. And then he
groaned, pulling his hips back, almost pulling all the way out, before
thrusting back into him roughly.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered, but his words were muffled by Louis' screams, he
didn't really care, the words were lies anyways. Psychopaths can't feel regret
of their actions, or is it that he has convinced himself of such?
Louis couldn't seem to stay still.
Now he wanted this to end.
The belts were digging so deep into into his wrists that he knew he would be
chaffed and blistered.
Louis was sobbing now, his cheeks flushed a dark shade of crimson and his eyes
shedding moisture repeatedly. He felt as if the air was knocked out of his
chest, the only noises escaping being breathless yelps and shrieks of utter and
total pain. He tried to relax, he really did; it was the only way that the pain
would dull down... At least a little bit. He had heard the faint words that
Harry uttered, not even acknowledging them since he knew he felt no remorse.
/This/ is what people like Harry got off to: causing other people to hurt and
beg and plead and cry.
Louis didn't want to give Harry what he wanted, but he really couldn't contain
himself.
Louis' screams, his cries, begs, yelps, everything that came out of his mouth
was like a melody to Harry's ears. He loved to hear it, he would be able to
listen to it every day for the rest of his life and wouldn't get tired of it,
perhaps he'd want more.
The curly haired male moved Louis' fringe away from his face, his thumbs
brushing the tears away from his eyes, but they kept coming. He moaned loudly
as he continued to thrust into the sixteen year old, moving himself at a fast
pace. He then latched their lips together, Harry sucking at his skin slightly.
Louis was almost ready to give in, what other choice did he have? He was about
to relax and let Harry have his way until he felt that spot, that /fucking/
spot, that made the pain feel actually worth while, he arched his back, staying
as still as possible so Harry would continue pounding into that same area. He
wouldn't let Harry have the pleasure of hurting him, so he didn't.
"God, Harry-right there.. Fuck me right /there/." His fists loosened and his
arms started to cease their resisting and pulling, his toes curling and his
legs wrapping around Harry's body.
He opened his eyes and looked up at Harry, his pupils almost completely taking
over the blue in his eyes.
Harry smirked as he looked at Louis, he knew he had started to hit Louis'
prostate, and he loved how the young teenager pronounced his name, how it
rolled off his tongue so swiftly. He could get used to it. Harry moaned even
louder, grinding their hips together, bone hitting against bone.
His right hand gripped the sheets as his left one wrapped around Louis' neck
and he squeezed slightly, not tight enough to /hurt/ him, but enough to make
him gag a little bit. He thrusted into him harsher, faster. He'd fuck him into
oblivion, that was for sure, "You're liking it now, eh?" He asked, panting, his
voice coming out really raspy.
Harry locked his emerald orbs with his blue ones, a smug smirk adorning his
features, his hand still around his neck.
Louis' mouth was still gaped open, his airway just slightly restricted by
Harry's grip.
"Yeah, shit," he responded effortlessly, it wasn't hard to tell that this
wasn't exactly /rape/. His hips lifted upwards to give Harry a clearer and
easier passageway, his cock burying and retreating inside of him swiftly.
It still hurt, yes, but most of his limbs were beginning to feel lifeless and
numb due to the abuse to his prostate.
"Fuck me, Harry. Fucking /choke/ me," he growled, his cock lying rock hard and
red against his abdomen, precum smearing onto his small belly.
Harry's hand tightened around his neck, choking him. He was sure he was going
to leave his fingers marked around him, but he didn't give a single fucking
shit about it. He really didn't care if the boy passed out or if he died, he'd
still fuck him dead or not.
As sick as it sounds, he'd do it.
Harry continued to moan, throwing his head back as he gave smaller, but faster
thrusts into him. His hand was still tight around his neck, almost making his
knuckles go white, but he wasn't applying /that/ force.
Harry panted, his right hand moving to brush his finger tips against Louis'
cock, taking the precum in his fingertips and then taking it to his mouth,
sucking.
Louis screeched and kept his eyes trained on Harry's actions, becoming even
more aroused if that was possible. He pulled once again on the belts that were
relentlessly marking his wrists, Harry's hand cutting off more airflow than
before.
"Harry," he rasped out, "C-can't," he stopped, he was wasting his breath,
literally. He took in shirt and shallow whisks of air to spare it. He turned
his head side to side, succeeding in loosening Harry's grip just enough.
His hole was raw, totally used and red, he knew though he couldn't even see it.
His cock ached, desperate for more than just some teasing.
Harry was panting heavily, he let go off Louis' marked neck and cupped his
face, moaning loudly against his lips as he kissed him, not getting anything in
reply, but he didn't care, he didn't want his kisses, anyways.
Harry thrusted faster into him, the hand on Louis' cock going down to his hole
and rather hesitantly, he pushed a finger in along with his big groin,
stretching him even more. Precum leaked through his own tip inside Louis he
moaned moving his finger and cock in and out of him, stretching the fuck out of
him in a harsh way, a smug smirk adorning his features the whole time. All the
friction to Louis' dick was Harry's abdomen lightly brushing against him with
each thrust, which was pure teasing, to be honest.
Louis took a deep and desperate breath once his throat was released, the
familiar burning sensation coming back and washing over his body as Harry
forced a dry finger inside of him. He didn't scream this time, knowing that
Harry was almost literally feeding off of his pain, and he wouldn't have that.
He accepted Harry's addition, his legs, which were still wrapped around Harry's
waist, tightening and incidentally pulling Harry even deeper inside of him than
necessary.
His stomach coiled, the constant pounding and unrequited abuse to his prostate
slowly but surely driving him over the edge. The small amount of friction was
just enough, it was better than nothing after all.
"H-Harry, please," he began to plead, his breathing rapidly increasing, "P-
please touch me."
Harry clenched his jaw as he got nothing out of Louis' mouth. He shook his head
coldly at his pleas, "No." He said dryly. He wanted to hear him scream and beg,
but he got nothing, so he was angry, not even a small whimper. He added a
second finger, thrusting harsher and curling his fingers. If this provoked
nothing, he'd just /give up/ and walk out.
He stared at Louis' eyes with his angry ones. His left hand tugged at his
feathery hair, nails slightly digging at his scalp, "Fuck you." He growled.
Harry was furious, but nonetheless he kept pleasuring Louis slightly by
pressing with his fingers at his prostate. Just a few more hits and he was sure
Louis would be climaxing.
Louis knew that his enjoyment in this was driving Harry insane. This definitely
isn't what he had broken in for. Harry wanted Louis to be crying and begging
him to stop, but he wouldn't give in like that. He pushed the unbearable pain
aside and focused on the pleasurable aspects of the situation.
"You already are," he spat in response to Harry, the burn in his hole being the
worst yet, but he wouldn't let Harry know that.
"And your doing an amazing fucking job at it" he added, knowing that Harry
would most likely get even more angry. His stomach heated up more as repeated
jabs were delivered to his prostate, his cock looking painful and angry against
his tanned stomach. His abdomen tightened and before he knew it, he was
cumming, white ribbons painting his body.
Harry looked at Louis with burning, red fire in his eyes. He was absolutely
furious, all he could feel was rage, pure fucking rage.
"I'm serious." He whispered, keeping everything in his mind for a little while.
He remained immobile, feeling Louis' salty, sticky juices over his abdomen. His
hand continued to tug Louis' hair, almost feeling as if he was ripping it off
his scalp. The curly haired male was starting to hyperventilate, "All I want to
do is bloody fuck you with that big knife over there. For the sheets to stain
with your tears and blood-." And he cut himself by his hand slapping across his
face again, though he did it two more times.
He wasn't able to climax anymore, he was so turned off. He pulled out and his
eyes landed on Louis' poor, red, swollen hole, it looked as if it was on fire,
"That's supposed to hurt..." He whispered, just staring, before his hands flew
to his hair and he was tugging, hurting himself with his hands, "Where did I go
wrong? Where did I fucking go wrong?!" He kept screaming, he was having a small
attack. He stood up, immediately going for the knife, he stabbed it ten times
against the drawer, all the time repeating, "Where did I go wrong?" And then he
walked to the bed, stabbing the knife into the mattress fifteen times, but it'd
just sink in.
Louis kept a close eye on the knife which was a bit too close for his comfort.
What was he supposed to say? He couldn't help that he was enjoying being
'raped' and taken advantage of. He smiled, a bit devilishly, though his cheek
was stinging, it wasn't as bad as the other pain he had endured already, just
glad that Harry was beyond pissed off now.
"You went wrong when you thought I'd give you what you wanted." He spat, his
wrists almost as raw and as beaten as his arse which was stinging relentlessly,
especially when Harry had retreated out of him. He wouldn't be gentle, of
course he wouldn't. Louis pulled himself up on the bed a bit, the skin on his
wrists new and young so it burned like crazy.
"You fucking psychopath. Getting off on making people hurt and beg. Fucking
disgusting! I'm not going to give you what you want."
And okay, maybe Louis didn't have much room to talk. He was the one who was
enjoying being fucked by a mentally ill person.
"I know what people like /you/ want. You wanted me to kick and scream, begging
you to stop and tell you how much it hurt, but I couldn't. Not when if felt so
/fucking/ good," Louis antagonized. He knew he was pushing his luck now.
Harry stared, he was so mad to the point where he wanted to stab Louis' face
until it looked unrecognizable. He wanted to cut off all his limbs and hide
them around the house for his family to find when they came back from wherever
they were.
"You gave me what I wanted at some point." He growled, before spitting,
literally spitting in pure and utter disgust. He was containing himself,
because he liked the boy, but if it were someone else he'd have already killed
them. His heart stopped at his words though /you fucking psychopath/. He dug
the knife deep into his own skin, blood streaming down his arm. /you fucking
psychopath/ he repeated, digging even deeper with the blade into his arm. /
fucking disgusting/ he lost it there, he drew a huge line on his wrists, not
big enough to bleed out dangerously, but just enough to hurt like he did
before. He never moved his emerald orbs away from Louis.
"I'm not disgusting." He said, withdrawing the knife from his arm and stabbing
it millimeters away from Louis' face, "/You/, on the other hand, are. You are
the one who enjoyed being fucked by me. The one who asked for more and came
undone." His forehead was pressed against the boy, "You are bloody disgusting.
That's what your family will think when they find out about this. They'll think
you're mental." He stated with pure disgust in his voice, "In fact I'll make
the pretty girls in the pictures scream. I'll make them wish they were never
born."
Louis felt Harry's breath on him, his hot, angry breath. He had never witnessed
somebody cutting themselves and he had never wanted to see something like that.
It was awful, morbid, and sad.
Yes, /sad/. Nobody, no matter what, should /ever/ harm themselves. Louis
wiggled and hissed at the stinging in his ass and his wrists, so he stopped
almost immediately.
"No!" He yelled pleadingly, not his mum and sisters. They had nothing to do
with this.
"Please don't hurt them," he added, his eyes wetting once again as his face
heated up.
"Please don't say anything. I promise that I won't. I swear!" He would do
anything for his family.
He looked down between their bodies and saw the blood dripping from Harry's
wrists and onto his white bed sheets, his tears beginning to fall as if like
rain.
"They didn't do anything to you. /Please/. I'll do anything, just, leave them
alone."
The words stung his mouth. He didn't want to think too much about what he was
saying.
Harry was exhausted, he had ran a lot to get out of that place. He had used a
lot of strength to break into Louis' house, then he had fucked Louis and
stabbed things and he was just so /exhausted/. A smirk took over his features
as the young teenager under him started to scream and beg him not to, "You care
about them a lot, don't you?" He laughed, pressing a kiss to his neck, "You
won't say anything, I'm sure of that. When are they all back, tomorrow? The day
after tomorrow?" He asked, "I'm gonna fuck them both ways. One after another
and everything in front of your pretty, blue eyes." He pressed another kiss to
his marked neck. That was a big fat lie, just trying to make Louis cry harder.
He didn't want his sisters, he wanted /him/. He licked his lips as he continued
to whisper things into his ears. He couldn't feel his arms and the blood
continued to stain Louis' sheets, some of it getting to his skin.
"You shouldn't have called me like that... You shouldn't have referred to me
with those names.." He whispered, shaking his head.
Louis sobbed, his head shaking from side to side as the rest of his body sat
completely still.
/This/ is the reaction Harry wanted. Louis figured if he have him what he
wanted he would leave sooner or later and let him cry.
"No, no, no, no" he chanted repeatedly, his cheeks soaked in salty tears and
and he looked up at his wrists, his skin totally broken and breeched with small
traces of blood lining his belt. He could block that pain out though. The
emotional pain that he was enduring was so much worse. He didn't know what else
he could say. He'd begged, he pleaded, he'd cried and Harry still insisted on
hurting the people that he loved the most. He wouldn't tell when they were
coming back.
They wouldn't be back for at least another week which he figured was better
than them coming home now, or even tomorrow, and find out what had happened. He
was enjoying being 'raped'. They would feel bad, yet totally disgusted and
horrified with him.
"I'm sorry!" He shouted, his voice broken from the previous groans and screams
he had been emitting.
"Please, just don't hurt them. Hurt me as much as you want, but not them!"
Harry breathed heavily, shaking his head, "I don't want to hurt you as much as
I normally would. If I did that then you'd be dead, and I don't want you dead."
He told him "Not yet, at least." He added, not wanting him to think he could do
anything he wanted, because he wouldn't be killed. Harry caressed Louis' cheeks
with his bloody fingers, "It's okay..." He whispered, admiring his features. He
was mesmerized by his handsome face.
"God, you're so fucking pretty.." He said just centimeters away from his mouth.
He licked his lips briefly, before speaking again, "Where is the bathroom?" He
asked. He had stopped insisting on raping his mother and sisters, he had shut
his mouth about it, but he now knew Louis' soft spot and he was going to take
advantage of it.
He continued to clean the tears off Louis' cheeks and instead he was staining
them with blood, which wasn't intended, but he didn't bother to clean it
either. Harry just wanted a decent shower, he wanted to be able to do it
himself, not like in the hospital, where the nurses would 'shower' him. They
did it by group, so he wouldn't hurt his nurse. He felt exposed, even if he
liked to be naked, he didn't want those twats to see him.
Louis took in a few deep breaths. Harry wasn't necessarily threatening him
anymore, so he felt a little bit better about his family.
"S'right across the hall," he informed Harry, not able to keep away the small
blush that formed across his blood stained cheeks at Harry's words. He didn't
know why he enjoyed being called 'pretty' by a rapist.
"C-can you untie me. Please?" He asked in a small voice, almost inaudible to
Harry. He didn't want to anger the older boy anymore than he ready had. It
scared him how Harry's attitude could change so drastically from seductive to
disappointed to angry to horny to sweet. But he was just manipulative. His
wrists were so pained right now, the stinging in his arse not even comparing
since the 'torture' had stopped a while ago.
Harry turned his head towards the door, nodding his head.
"I'm guessing the towels are there too?" He asked, turning his gaze back to
Louis' small body. He raised his brows at Louis' words, his hands went up to
his wrists and he gave a light smile, almost giving him hope, only to crash
them seconds later, "No." He simply said, "I'm not going to untie you." He
stated, "Unless you come in that bathroom with me and let me do whatever I
want, but I'm sure you won't handle anything else tonight." He pressed another
soft kiss to his lips, squeezing his wrists tightly. He then grabbed the knife
from the mattress and headed out of the room, leaving Louis completely exposed.
He entered to the bathroom and turned both knobs on just slightly, trying to
get the water warm for his body, he then started to clean his wrists, wincing
slightly.
Louis whimpered and teared up once again. His wrists were on fire. He knew they
weren't, but it felt like the belts were tightening very slowly. He watched as
Harry left, his eyebrows furrowing and he yelled out a yelp when he pulled
himself up to sit on his arse, realizing that wasn't the smartest idea but
luckily there was less pressure and focus on his wrists.
He kept his body still after that, his head hanging down between his shoulders
and staring at the blood stains on his sheets, pulling his knees up to his
chest and just leaving them there as he listened to the water run from the
shower just across the way from his bedroom.
Harry bit his lip as he finished with his wrists and then he stepped inside the
shower. The warm water traveled down his body freely, it felt nice to be able
to wash himself with his own hands.
He let out a small sigh, as slight blood traveled down his body mixed with
water. He was taking his time, brushing his fingertips swiftly over every
single part of his body. He used the shampoo that smelled like fruits, and
after washing it twice, he closed the knobs and stepped out. He dried his body
slowly and then brushed the towel through his curls. He stared at his reflexion
in the mirror for about fifteen minutes, judging himself with a frown and then
he was saying all the good things about him.
He sighed, he hated when that happened.
The towel was wrapped around his waist as he stepped back into Louis' room,
water still dripping down his body.
Louis lifted his head when he sensed that somebody else was in the room with
him, his eyes immediately landing on Harry. He wasn't an ugly guy, not even a
little bit. He was gorgeous actually, even with the scars that he had given
himself. He would never say that though, it would be even more inappropriate
than their encounter just a few minutes earlier.
He shook off the thought.
Why was he feeling that way about somebody who had the intention of
slaughtering him?
His arms were aching as they were pulled behind his body as they were twisted
uncomfortably.
How long was he supposed to stay like this?
Why did Harry insist on keeping him tied up? It's not like he would dare to try
and run away. He knows that he'd easily get caught.
"Harry," he groaned impatiently, wiggling his arms once again, "You're here
now. Can you /please/ take these off?"
Harry stared at the boy for a couple of seconds, his eyes looking up and down
his body carefully. He admired him, he was so pretty, Harry honestly liked him
a lot. He gave a small sigh, walking towards the bed, he let go off the towel,
it falling to his feet. He pushed it aside, before sitting on the edge of the
bed, his slender fingers fiddling with the belt slightly, before he allowed his
hand fall against the mattress. He walked to the other one and released it as
well. He caressed his hurt wrists softly, before reluctantly letting go and
walking away from the bed. He pulled his white, old boxers back on and pressed
his back against the door of the room, his hands fiddling with the knife he had
been carrying around. His emerald orbs plastered to Louis' hurt, red and achy
body. Just looking up and down his body, memorizing every feature.
Louis almost actually smiled when he was released, looking down at his raw
wrists and not even bothering to touch them. He knew that the fresh skin would
be so sensitive and it would sting for anything to touch them.
He made two fists and twisted his hands in circular motions, loosening up his
muscles a bit. He looked back up at Harry, the boy's hair was still damp and
laying wavy against his forehead. He felt a bit self conscious that Harry was
just trailing his eyes along his body repeatedly, his hands scrambling to try
and cover the most exposed parts.
He started to think about everything that had happened.
He didn't know why he cared about Harry hurting himself, he just /did/.
"Why did you cut yourself?" He asked, knowing that the answer was probably
obvious: he hated who he was and what he had done, but he could be completely
wrong.
"Why are you trying to cover yourself? You're completely handsome, you have
nothing you need to cover." Harry stated, his face motionless, voice raspy and
deep.
At his question he remained quiet, thinking of an answer. He could tell the
truth, he could make something up, he could tell part of the truth, or even
tell him to mind his own business and shut up.
Why did he cut himself? He pursed his lips, before finally shrugging and
opening his mouth, "I was angry." He simply said, his finger tips running up
and down his scars and recent wounds. He looked down at his feet with a small
frown, wiggling his fingers, "Why were you by yourself when I first arrived
here?" He questioned, looking back up at him, his expression was cold, almost
angry, but he wasn't feeling like that, he was just putting out a show.
Truth was, that the shower had relaxed him a lot.
Louis shrugged his shoulders, keeping his position the same. Being angry wasn't
really logical enough. But he never harmed himself. Maybe it was something that
only people who harmed themselves would understand. When Louis' angry , he just
cries but it obviously seems like harry isn't the crying type of person.
"My aunt is having a baby. They all went to Wolverhampton for a week or two. I
really don't like my aunt so I just decided to stay." He explained, "I guess I
figured I could handle it."
Parts of his skin felt dry and crusty from not only Harry's shared blood, but
also his cum that was still plastered onto his abdomen and tummy.
"Can I shower?" He asked, keeping a big eyes gaze on Harry. He was calm now he
assumed from the exterior and verbal responses.
Harry listened to the boy's words, scoffing lightly at some parts, "That was a
stupid idea, wasn't it?" He questioned, laughing lightly as he pressed the
point of the knife to his fingertips, rolling it around. He grimaced, almost as
if what Louis had said was completely disgusting, but it wasn't. It was
understandable.
"No." He spat, turning away. "You can't." He added with a frown, "You look
pretty just like that." He giggled for himself, covering his mouth. He could
take a picture and keep it forever. He shook his thoughts away from his mind.
He put the knife aside, standing up from the ground and walking towards the
bed, he offered his hand, "I'll take you there." He said.
It was odd, how his mood changed so easily. It was weird, but he was used to
it. It had always happened to him since he was younger.
Louis looked up at Harry, then down at his hand and back up again. He was
getting confused with Harry's emotions. But it was better than Harry being
fucking pissed off all the time and hurting him.
He held his hand out and rested it in Harry's, gripping it and using the
leverage to help him stand up, his body tensing and his muscles tightening to
try and coax the intense pain is his arse. Why was that okay with him though?
He should feel disgusting and used and petrified and scarred for the rest of
his life, but he just didn't feel that way.
Maybe he was just into being manhandled and that was okay, but not okay to have
it done by a proven and convicted rapist. He tried not to limp as he started to
walk towards the door of his bedroom, clutching Harry's hand as if it was the
only thing keeping him up on his feet.
Harry stared down at the young teenager, raising his brows as he waited for his
hand to be taken. He smiled for himself as Louis started to stand up, he could
tell he was in a lot of pain, which he couldn't decipher if he liked or not,
though there were more chances he was enjoying seeing him struggle. He shook
his thoughts away once again, following close behind until they got to the door
of the room. The curly haired male, let out an exasperated sigh and let go off
his hand, almost making him fall flat on his face against the door, but he held
him by the back just in time. His hands snaked under his bare back and legs,
picking him up. He opened the door as he could and then started to walk to the
bathroom, not having much struggle.
Louis was small and light, he weighted almost nothing, which made a small grin
appear on his features. "You're so small..." He whispered into his ear, "like a
little kid." He added, finally entering to the bathroom, and closing the door
behind them.
Louis hissed. Obviously Harry didn't care about being gentle with him. Louis
should have expected as much. He clutched onto the older boy with his arms
around his neck, his back pressed gently against the door. "I've always been
small for my age," he stated, wiggling his legs out of Harry's grip and
planting his feet flat on the ground. He kept his arms around Harry's neck,
looking up at him through his eyelashes.
His raw wrists were pressing against Harry's shoulders, it didn't hurt too bad,
he could handle it, it was just very uncomfortable. He'd rather have than than
not be able to walk which he was having struggles with already.
Harry removed his arm from Louis' body, staring down at his piercing blue eyes.
He remained quiet, giving a light shrug. He didn't speak, he just gulped and
stared. He was lost in them, they were like two deep seas or two high sky's.
They were like heaven and light at the same time, a place he'd never be able to
go, but he could see his reflection in those beautiful eyes. His lesser lip
trembled a little, words attempting to erupt, but nothing came out. He just
turned away, and moved Louis' arms from his neck. He sighed and sat on the tap
of the toiled, staring now at Louis' small, slightly tan and bruised body. He
let out another sigh, his chin resting over his hand.
"Go on, then. /shower/." He spoke, motioning with his head to the glass door
next to him.
Louis nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, walking freely over to the shower
and sliding the glass door open. He turned the dials the way he usually did,
knowing when the temperature was perfect for him. He didn't question wha Harry
was doing. He knew he was going to just sit there and watch him clean himself
and at this point, he didn't really care. He had been seen in the most intimate
and inappropriate way possible so he had nothing to be shy or embarrassed
about. He stepped into the shower and pulled the door shut, the hot water
burning the fresh skin on his wrists. He closed his eyes and breathed in the
already forming steam to just get used to the feeling. He stood underneath the
water for a few seconds before he grabbed the shampoo, minding his arms so the
soap didn't cause his wounds to sting.
Harry looked at Louis' wet body, it looked really hot and he just wanted to
fuck him in the shower yet again, but he didn't do anything, he kept it in his
head and followed Louis' hands with his eyes.
"Hurry up..." The older male groaned as his eyes slowly started to close. He
was really, really tired and he wanted to sleep already. His eyes shot open
again, his fingertips rubbing them slightly. He took in a deep breath,
intertwining his fingers with his curls and ruffling them a bit. He let out a
sigh, turning his head back to Louis, biting his lip slowly. "Or not..." He
breathed, "You could /touch/ yourself and I would be okay with it." He laughed
a little, getting off the toilet and sitting on the floor. He could sleep right
there, right now.
Louis rolled his eyes and began to lather the shampoo into his hair, lightly
scraping his nails into his scalp to thoroughly cleanse himself. He wouldn't do
what Harry said the only reason being that almost every part of his body hurt.
He started to finally feel the ache in his neck, knowing that there were
bruises forming where Harry's fingers pressed into his throat. How was he
supposed to cover this up? The bruises would only get worse and darker and more
painful.
Once he rinsed his hair, he squeezed some soap onto a washcloth and quickly
cleaned his body, minding the sensitive areas and focusing on the blood and cum
stains that were encrusted into his skin.
He turned off the water and slid the shower door open, stepping out into the
shower mag and grabbing a towel to quickly dry himself off with. He looked at
the curly haired boy sitting on the ground, he looked totally exhausted. 'Poor
/fucking/ baby' Louis thought to himself, shaking his head and continuing to
dry off.
Harry had his eyes closed, no, he was not sleeping, he was just resting his
eyes while Louis got out of the shower. He waited patiently, mostly, because he
was way too tired to complain.
"Done?" He murmured, starting to get up from the floor, the slits of the little
doors he was leaning against marked onto his back. He didn't mind though.
He looked at Louis, raising one of his brows as he rubbed his eyes in a slow
manner. "Walk." He stated, opening the door for him to start walking towards
his room. A small yawn escaped from his lips as a hand flew to cover his mouth.
"Walk." He repeated, in a harsher way this time. His fingers wrapped around his
wrist, and it really looked as if he was going to tug him violently, but he
just held his hand, waiting for him to walk. Harry looked like a zombie, except
he was pretty and didn't /eat/ people.
Louis surprising grabbed Harry's hand back, starting to move his feet and
follow Harry towards his bedroom. His towel was wrapped loosely around his
waist, his walking manner a bit slow and careful because of his aching. Once he
reached his room, he kept his grip on Harry's hand, fixing his towel. He was
about to let go and make his way to his dresser to get at least a pair of
boxers, but he wasn't sure if he was necessarily /allowed/ to do that. "Can I
put clothes on?" He questioned, looking up at Harry.
He was definitely confused; with himself that is.
He's had so many opportunities to run and call the police but he just didn't.
He didn't /want/ to.
And it made absolutely no sense to him.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I don't care." He stated, immediately letting go
off Louis' warm hand. He started to walk towards the bed, but he stopped,
turning back, he shut the door of the bedroom with a loud bang and then he
turned back to the bed.
His feet moved lazily against the floor. His eyes were closed by the time his
knees pressed against the mattress, he basically allowed his body to collapse
against it. His emerald orbs were hidden away by his eyelids, he didn't even
bother to cover his body. He just laid there on his stomach, no blanket, no
sheet, no covers engulfing his cold body, only his boxers. Everything was under
him. He was fast asleep. He usually doesn't sleep well, so he's most likely
going to wake up in a few hours. It was really late now, though.
Louis flinched when the door was slammed, clearing his throat before he just
nodded. He walked to his dresser and took out a pair of clean boxers and
another large sweater that hung off one shoulder. He dressed himself before
turning around and looking at Harry who was taking up basically the whole bed.
He didn't say anything. He knew how easy it was to upset or anger Harry and
since he was tired, he didn't want to cause any problems with the older boy. He
just strolled over to his bed and sat down on the edge of it, sitting cross-
legged.
Harry was currently sleeping in a rather peaceful way. His head rested on the
pillow, one of his hands under it and his legs placed in a semi-diagonal way,
so they wouldn't be hanging off the bed. His curls were falling over his face,
hiding him.
Harry moved a little on the bed, placing himself on the center, goosebumps
being faintly visible on his back. His body was shaking a little, but he was
way too tired to pull the covers over his body.
His pink, plump lips were parted a tiny bit, allowing his breath to come in and
out of his mouth.
Louis felt Harry adjust his position, looking over at him and just examining
how sweet and gentle he looked at the moment. Louis was also totally worn out.
He stood from the bed and walked to his closet, getting a large fleece blanket
out of it and prancing back over to his bed.
He sat down next to Harry, blanket it hands, carefully and slowly lying down
with his front facing Harry. He tried not to touch him so he stayed asleep. He
threw the blanket over both of their bodies, resting his head on just the edge
of his pillow so he didn't take up much space.
Harry's frame flinched as the blanket was placed over his body, a frown
adorning his features, though he was still asleep. His face slowly softened,
his body relaxing again after a few minutes. The warmth slowly spread over his
body, he was still cold, but he did nothing about it, since he was used to it.
About two hours later, he woke up with a silent gasp, his heart beating really
fast, to the point where he felt as if it was about to blow up. His curls were
stuck to his forehead with slight sweat. He looked around the room, his eyes
soon landing on Louis. He almost pushed him off the bed, thinking it was part
of his dream, but he stopped just when he was about to touch him. He inhaled
and exhaled, stepping out of the bed. He walked to a chair by a table with
books and a computer and he pulled it out, moving it so it was next to the bed,
in front of Louis. He sat down, and stared.
Weirdo.
Louis stirred in his sleep, pulling the blanket up further and cuddling into
it.
He started to breath a bit unevenly, his hands clutching and balling into the
covers.
He was dreaming.
Dreaming about his family, just wanting them to turn out okay.
He didn't know why it was so easy for him to believe that Harry wouldn't hurt
or kill them, he wasn't sure why he just brushed it off without another word.
After a few short minutes of stirring, his eyes flew open to meet Harry's body
just sitting there. He lifted his head and scooted back a bit in his bed; he
was just caught off guard.
And yet he wondered: why is he still here? Why didn't he just leave?
He yawned and sat up, rubbing his hands over his face and taking in a few deep
breaths, large amounts of anxiety flooding his stomach.
Harry just continued to stare at Louis, almost as if he were day dreaming, but
he just wasn't. He was in a sort of /trance/.
His long legs were pressed to his chest, his arms snaked around them, his chin
rested on his knees and his emerald orbs were just wide open, staring at the
young teenager.
He barely fit in the chair by the position he was in, but he refused to move.
He was motionless, he looked frozen, like a statue. The only movement that
could be seen was his chest, and his fingers, frantically, almost violently
tapping against his leg. This was nothing to worry about though, it had
happened every single day of his life, and it would happen for the rest of it.
Louis furrowed his eyebrows together and examined Harry's behavior.
He pushed the blanket off of his body, keeping his eyes glued to the older boy.
"What's the matter with you?" He asked.
He couldn't help but feel a bit worried only because he didn't want Harry's
strange actions to turn into rage.
He was more concerned for himself, obviously.
Harry looked as though he had just seen a ghost, Louis' eyes training
themselves on Harry's vigorously tapping fingers.
What was Louis supposed to do? Should he nudge him? Should he just leave him
alone?
Harry continued to stare at the pretty boy before him. He remained in the same
position he was in, his finger continued to move over his leg, swiftly.
He was absolutely speechless, he heard Louis, crystal clear, but he just
decided he wouldn't answer, he gulped and his lips parted.
Don't touch him, don't approach him.
If you touch him he'll scream and hit you, then he'll go back to his place.
If you approach him, he'll hit you and go back.
Just let him be, he won't do anything, he is just going to stare.
He's just going to think.
Louis was quite frightened. He carefully and slowly got off of his bed, fixing
his sweater.
What was up with Harry?
"Okay, you're really freaking me out right now," he said, walking last Harry.
He kept his eyes glued to the older boy in saw he tried to grab him or do
something.
He ran a hand through his hair and exited his room, assuming it was best that
he just left Harry alone for a while.
He pranced down the stairs to and went into the living room, plopping down onto
the couch, pulling his knees to his chest.
'What is Harry thinking about?'
'What is wrong with him?' Louis kept wondering.
The thing he thought about most was why he gave a single shit?
Was it because it was his first time? Though it wasn't what he wanted it to be
like, it was really the only reasonable explanation for his small amount of
fondness of Harry.
Harry's heart started to beat really fast. His face became pale and a chill
traveled down his spine, legs and arms, making his body grow weak.
His head turned towards the door Louis had walked to. He was going to call the
police, wasn't he?
He was going to take his opportunity while he could, right?
His lesser lip trembled a little, but closed his mouth and hid it in between
his knees.
His finger had stopped moving, his breath had calmed down, he was just waiting
for the worst to come, he did not move. He did not care anymore, or did he?
The curly haired male, moved his arms from around his body, he put his naked
legs down a and interlocked his fingers over his lap.
His green, big eyes were plastered to the door, waiting for Louis to come back
through that door, hoping to see him walk back in.
He should've stood up, but he just /couldn't/ do it, at least not yet.
Louis was starting to get angry with himself. He wasn't supposed to let Harry
be in his house.
He wasn't supposed to have left his doors unlocked.
He definitely wasn't supposed to have enjoyed being 'raped' and he wasn't
supposed to have let Harry stay in his house.
He stood from the couch, stretching his still weary limbs and making his way to
the staircase. He didn't go up, he just stood at the bottom and stared upwards
at the hallway.
He was scared, he'll admit that.
What if Harry's nice behavior was all an act? What if he was really planning to
kill Louis?
And honestly, Louis didn't care about that right now.
He walked quietly up the stairs, still having a but of difficulty from the
night before.
He stapled once he reached his bedroom door, just peeking inside. "Harry?" He
muttered, "can you please talk to me?"
Harry took in a deep breath, standing up from the chair. He ran his hands
through his curls and slipped back into the blankets, wrapping them around his
body.
Louis wasn't coming, right? That boy was just going to wait downstairs for the
police.
God, he should've killed him. He should've done it in his sleep, or even when
he was still tied up.
He should go downstairs and kill him, before the police arrives.
Strangle him, cut off his limbs, choke him, just... Something.
His head snapped towards the door as a voice echoed around the room.
All of his thoughts were gone, all the voices were gone, they weren't telling
him what he should do anymore.
He clenched his jaw, turning his gaze back to the ceiling, "Get back to bed."
He spoke.
It was still really early in the morning, around 6 or 5. "Go back to sleep." He
added, his voice cold as ice.
He didn't know how, he just /realized/ that kid wasn't going to call the police
and Harry wasn't going to kill him, that is if Louis doesn't give him any /
trouble/.
Louis furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, staying by the door for
another minute it so. He watched as Harry curled into /his/ blankets on /his/
bed.
He wasn't about to disobey Harry, but where was he supposed to go?
He sighed and took a few steps inside, adjusting his sweater that was hanging
off one of his shoulders. He walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge of
it, keeping his eyes on Harry to make sure he didn't make him angry or
startled, as funny as it sounds.
"Can I sleep with you?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper as he chewed the
inside of his cheek.
He was glad that he didn't have any calls or text messages from his family
members, he wouldn't know what to say anyway.
Harry's arms rested under his head, just as if he were watching the stars
drowning into the deep darkness of the night sky, but he was just looking at
the white ceiling.
His expression was serious, his pink lips were parted a little bit and his
breath came in and out of there.
His eyes moved away from ceiling and landed on Louis, no expression being
visible in his features yet. "Where else would you sleep?" He asked, as if it
were completely obvious where he had to sleep.
"You're going to lie down next to me, in the same mattress, with the same
blankets and the same bloody pillow. /Get into the bed/." He groaned, brows
furrowing, before he looked back up.
Louis flinched at Harry's tone, nodding his head and hesitantly lying down and
looking over at Harry. He pulled the blanket up and he slid underneath it,
resting his head on the corner of the pillow in an attempt to keep at least a
little bit of distance. He wasn't going to ask what the hell was wrong with
Harry, he knew how sensitive the older boy was and how easily his moods
changed.
He turned his gaze away from Harry then, turning on his side and facing away
from him. He stared at the wall. Maybe he should have called the police when he
had the chance.
Harry remained in that position for about ten minutes, before he rolled to his
side to find Louis' back facing towards him. He didn't mind though, he just
shrugged, before one of his arms snaked around his waist and pulled him closer
to his body.
He placed a kiss to the shoulder that was showing out of his jumper. He smiled
against it, his lips remaining over his skin, just like that.
Harry's hands rested on Louis' lower torso, pressing their bodies together,
before his eyes closed.
He wasn't going to sleep, he was just going to rest. He wasn't able to sleep
anymore, but he wanted to lay down with him.
Louis nibbled on his bottom lip, keeping his eyes open. He really couldn't read
Harry. He was just yelling at him and now he was cuddling and kissing him.
"Harry?" He whispered, gently pushing back into Harry's body. He liked the
feeling of the older boy behind him, he was warm and comfortable. He didn't
even know what he wanted to ask, so he just stayed silent.
Eventually, he let his eyes fall shut, placing one of his hands over Harry's
that was around his waist.
"What?" Was Harry's only answer. He took in a deep breath, before his face
buried into Louis' hair.
He liked the feeling of Louis body being pressed like that against him, it was
if it their bodies were meant to be like that.
The big spoon and small spoon.
He took in his scent, 'perfect' he thought, he did not mind the silence in the
room, he liked being able to hear their breaths. The proof that there was still
life in there.
He smiled for himself as Louis' small hand was placed over his, he carefully
slid his fingers in between them, locking their fingers.
Not even Harry himself understands what's wrong, or what's up with him. He
doesn't get why he had such radical mood swings, but he has never questioned
them either.
He just lets them be.
Louis smiled and turned his head to the side, gripping Harry's hand gently.
'What the hell is wrong with me?' He thought to himself, quickly shaking off
the though as he looked over his shoulder and up at Harry. He was pretty cute
when he was content and calm, but Louis seemed even more attracted to him when
he ha a bit of a temper. He knew it was sick to feel that way about a convicted
rapist but he just couldn't help it.
Louis let his thumb trace gently against Harry's palm.
Why wasn't he pushing him away?
Why wasn't he mad at him?
He really couldn't figure it out.
"Nevermind," he said, licking his lips and turning his head again to face the
wall.
Harry nodded his head slowly, not saying another word.
He liked the tingly sensation Louis was giving to his hand, it made him giggle
a bit.
He liked Louis' gentle gestures, he couldn't say he liked his smile or his
laugh, because he had never actually heard or seen any of those.
Around three hours have passed and Harry's eyes are still open. They have been
roaming through Louis' body as well as his hands.
His stomach has been doing noises since a while ago.
He stopped caressing him, sitting up on the bed, he bit on his lip and glanced
at Louis, he was still sleeping.
Harry leaned down, pressing his lips to Louis' marked neck, he moved up to his
jaw, soon straddling his lap, "Wake up.." He muttered, planting a trail of
kisses to his mouth.
"Wake up." He repeated.
Louis furrowed his eyebrows and slowly fluttered his eyes open, trying to move
but finding it difficult since Harry was on top of him. He yawned, rubbing his
hands over his tired eyes. It was about 9 o'clock now, the time he usually gets
up on weekends anyways.
Louis giggled, Harry's lips tickling his own and he softly smiled, looking up
at the older boy. "What?" He asked, wondering why Harry had woken him up.
Harry continued to kiss his skin, smiling as he got the other to wake up and
speak.
He sat with his back straight, still on top of the feathery haired male. "I'm
hungry.." He stated, his tongue darting out to moisturize his lips, "Really, /
really/ hungry." He added, before leaning back down, his mouth pressing to his
ear.
"Make food for me." He whispered into his ear, before he got off his lap and
stood next to the bed.
Louis groaned but nodded his head. He sat up and stretched his limbs, his eyes
still a hit droopy. He knew not to get his hopes up when Harry was sweet
because that could change with the snap of a pair of fingers. He slipped out of
bed and started to walk, grabbing Harry's hand as he passed him, leading him
out the door and into the hallway.
"What do you want?" He asked, trudging tiredly down this stairs. He made his
way into the kitchen.
Why was he making a psycho food?
Louis needed to stop asking himself those kinds of questions since he was
ignoring reality anyway.
Harry looked down at their hands with a small frown as Louis led him out of the
room and through the hall. He let it be though, he just walked behind him.
"I don't know." He simply answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I haven't been
able to choose my own food for the past four years of my life." He told him. "I
guess I'll take whatever you want to give me." He murmured.
Harry's stomach started to do noises once again, he just frowned deeply,
walking down the stairs. He'd have usually eaten by now.
Louis nodded and let go of Harry's hand. He went to the fridge, looking inside
if it and debating on what to make. He was hungry too. He just decided to make
eggs and bacon and toast, since he was total shit at cooking and it was the
simplest thing he could think to make. He took out the carton of eggs and box
bacon, going to the stove and beginning to cook, his back facing Harry.
He knew this was wrong.
He knew this was disgusting and just utterly confusing, but Harry seemed pretty
nice, that is, when he /wasn't/ having a temper tantrum.
Harry followed close behind him, he pursed his lips together as he sat on the
counter.
His green eyes trailed up and down his body, soon landing on the food he was
making.
"I used to cook a lot." He commented. "I used to do it well..." He added, just
above a whisper, tapping his fingers over his leg once again.
His stomach continued to do noises, making one of his hand fly to it, itching
it softly "Is it almost ready?" He groaned, getting off the counter and placing
himself behind Louis. His breath basically crashing against his neck as he
looked at the pan.
Louis nodded and turned his head to the side, looking at Harry. This seemed to
be a quite familiar position.
"Yeah. Just gotta make the bacon and toast," he answered, turning the dial to
kill the flame from the stove. He took a step backwards, making a bit of
distance between the two of them so he could reach up into the cupboard and get
out two plates. He put a few pieces of bread into the toaster as the bacon
cooked in the microwave. He put an even amount of eggs into each plate and did
the same with the bacon and toast once it was finished. He pushed past Harry
and set the plates on the table, a fork next to each plate.
"Dig in." He chimed, taking a seat and smiling at Harry as he waited for him to
do the same.
Harry made a face as Louis moved away from him, but he said nothing. He just
allowed a sigh escape from his lips and he headed towards the table, he sat and
nodded once Louis had placed a plate in front of him.
He didn't even bother to say thanks, he just basically started to eat, a bit
fast, but with manners. He was educated after all.
The voices had started to get in his head again there was fewer food on the
plate, he tried his best to shook them away, but that was not possible.
"I don't want to..." He muttered, though it was meant to be really silent, it
was directed to the voice. Not Louis, he didn't want to hear the voice there,
he didn't want to do as it said.
He continued to eat, his grip tight around his fork, pinching food and taking
it to his mouth, taking the toast soon after.
Louis looked up from his plate when he heard Harry speaking. They were
obviously the only two here, who else could he be talking to?
"You don't want to what?" He asked, one of his eyebrows cocked upwards. Harry
seemed to be a bit on edge.
'Jesus, why do I care?'
There he goes again, saying things to himself that he won't listen to in the
long run even though he knows what the right thing to do is: hit Harry with
something blunt and heavy, then call the police.
Harry's knuckles looked white, Louis observed, from how hard he papered to be
gripping his silverware.
He also wasn't making any eye contact with Louis.
He looked completely zoned out somewhere else.
Harry's head shot up, his eyes locking with Louis' face,"Mind your own bloody
business." He spat, turning his gaze back down to his almost empty plate.
/You can stab him with the fork, and end this/ the voice said. /just kill him
before he calls the police/ it added.
He shook his head, gripping the fork even tighter, "I don't want to do it. I
li-." And he was interrupted by his own thoughts.
/you don't like him. You just want to have sex with him. You're using him/
He frowned deeply, "That's not true.." He murmured, his eyes looking away from
the plate and at Louis. He stared, his green eyes looking up and down him. /
look at him, he's afraid. He won't even doubt and call the police. He hates
you. He thinks you're disgusting. A fucking psycho. That's all you are, a
psycho. He said so himself/
Harry's face dropped, his breath became heavy. That was true, wasn't it? Louis
had really said so. He loosened his grip on the fork, looking back up at Louis
with furious eyes.
Louis didn't take his stare off of Harry at all. He had stopped eating. His
hands were folded in his lap. He was just really afraid of the older boy at the
moment.
"What's wrong with you?" He asked, his feet planted flat on the floor as he
pushed himself back a bit, the chair squeaking against the hardwood floor. He
didn't dare to stand up. Harry hadn't told him that he could and he didn't want
Harry to get even angrier. He had a slight look of defeat in his eyes, but
there was mostly fear.
"What did I do?" He added in question.
He tapped his fingers against he thighs.
Who was Harry talking to before?
Obviously not Louis.
Harry looked as if he was trying to kill Louis just by looking at him.
"Why do you always think there's something wrong with /me/?" He asked between
gritted teeth.
"What's wrong Harry. What's wrong with you. You're scaring me. Talk to me
Harry." He mockingly repeated his words. "Just /shut up/." He said, finally
letting go off the metal in his hand, "You annoy me. Your voice annoys me. I
hate you."
Lies lies lies.
"Just, shut it, Louis. You make my head spin." He whispered.
He continued to stare at Louis the same way, angry, furiously.
He clenched his jaw once again, standing up from his chair, his hands resting
on the table, his nails digging in.
/kill him, Harry. Push him off the hair and choke him. Stab him, if you do...
I'll leave you alone. You'll be free/ and obviously the last part was a lie,
unfortunately the curly believed it.
Louis widened his eyes. He also stood up, solely out if fear and protectiveness
of himself. He didn't say anything else. Whether it was true or not, he felt
like he /was/ the reason that Harry was pissed off. He was slightly offended by
the fact that he said Harry hated him.
That was a lie.
Why would he have fucked him, and then proceeded to /stay/ if he hated him so
much. He stepped away from his chair and pushed it in so the seat was under the
table, bit taking his eyes off of Harry. The older boy was definitely sneaky
and manipulative, there's no way He was going to leave Louis' sight.
Harry pursed his lips, taking in a deep breath. /do it/ he darted his tongue
out and moisturized his lips.
With a nod of his head, he slowly walked towards the small male. He didn't want
to hurt him, or did he?
Harry was furious, it was not Louis who made him like this, it was the voice,
himself.
Harry had his hands turned into tight fists, his nails digging into his own
flesh.
/push him/ and Harry was doing it, his hands harshly pressing against Louis'
chest and shoving him against the wall.
"You don't like me. You hate me and want to get rid of me by calling the
police, right? That's all you've always wanted." He groaned, a small frown
resting on his features.
Louis face turned white, like as if he had just seen a ghost. His chest was
aching as Harry's hands dug into him.
"No," he assured, his voice no louder than just a breath, his head shaking
furiously. "I didn't- no, I wasn't going to call the police." He blurted. That
really wasn't his intention.
He knew Harry was supposed to be gone.
In jail.
That's where he was meant to stay; to rot. "I promise."
It must've been the third time he's said that since Harry had entered his home.
He knew he would have bruises on his chest, he could already feel them forming
on his skin.
"Lies!" He exclaimed, his hand sliding to his bruised neck. He liked his skin,
all soft and young. He sighed, shaking his head a little, he did not want to do
this, he really liked Louis, he wanted to keep him, but he knew that was not
possible. "You just want to fool me." He said, "you think I'm stupid and
disgusting." He added, closing his eyes for a split of a second, his grip was
loose. /do it. Kill him/ and his grip tightened around his soft neck, full of
love bites and the mark of his hand from last night. /not like that! Torture
him, do it slowly, make him suffer/ "no." He whispered, slightly grimacing. His
grip tightening just a bit, enough to cut the air from going through, "I don't
bloody want to. Leave me alone." He murmured.
Louis' mouth was hanging open, desperately trying to inhale the oxygen he
needed. He lifted his hands from his sides, tightly wrapping them around
Harry's wrists.
He was way too weak to move them, though.
He saw veins starting to become visible just underneath Harry's skin.
It hurt more now since he already had such deep, dark bruises littered onto his
skin.
"Don't-" he tried to plead, barely any sound escaping.
This was it, he assumed, his eyes turning to the side and gazing at the pan he
had used to cook their eggs in.
Before Harry could tell what he was planning, he reached for it.
With all the strength he could manage to build up, he lifted the pan and
forcefully brought it down onto Harry's head, making the older boy just weak
enough so that Louis could escape his death hold.
He ran past him and darted up the stairs, going to his parents room to hide.
Harry immediately removed his hand from Louis' neck, losing his balance for a
few seconds. His hands flew to his aching head.
He could not think of anything, he did not care about Louis anymore.
He held himself on the table, his hand trembled a little. His head pounded, it
hurt, but what made it worse was that annoying voice he had been hearing since
he was a kid. /don't be a pussy. Stop it and go after him, kill him. Kill him/
he tugged at his hair harshly with both hands, "Stop!" He screamed. "Leave me
alone! Leave! Get out!" He continued to scream, soon allowing his body to
collapse to the ground, he brought his knees to his chest. "Fuck you! I don't
want to! Leave!" His head was surely bleeding, he had a bump on his head too. /
you're useless. You can never do anything right. Stupid. You can't kill anyone,
not even yourself./ this was becoming too much, he couldn't handle it, he
couldn't take this. His head slammed against the wall, one time after another,
"leave, leave, leave." He said repeatedly, slamming harder.
Louis waited a few moments to assure that Harry wasn't coming after him. He
peered out from underneath the bed and reached up to grab the telephone from
his parents' bedside table.
He immediately dialed 911, holding the phone shakily to his ear and started to
speak as soon as he heard somebody on the other side.
"I need somebody! There's a man here trying to kill me!" And yeah, maybe he was
exaggerating.
He was terrified after all.
He face the police his address and was told that there was somebody on their
way.
He hung up the phone and kept listening for any sign of Harry.
Harry soon calmed down a little, he stopped hurting himself. He gulped and
moved his hands away from his head, his hands stained with blood. He just
hugged himself, soft cries leaving his lips.
"Lou?" He called out, hiccuping a little. His cheeks were pinkish, "Louis, help
me, please..." He said loud enough for Louis to hear.
"I-I'm bleeding, I don't know w-what to do.." His voice broke at the end of his
sentence.
The voice was gone, but his head still hurt a lot, he felt as if it were on
fire.
"Please…" he begged, Harry was so done right now, he wanted nothing anymore,
just to hold Louis, have him close for a little.
He wiped his hands in his boxers and then started to clean the tears from his
eyes.
Louis shook his head. Nobody could see him, obviously.
He didn't move.
He wasn't falling for this.
Not again.
Not even a minute later, he heard the police sirens sounding and starting to
near quickly.
He shimmied out from underneath the bed and ran to the window, sighing heavily
when he saw the police park by the curb and run up to the door.
They started to bang on the door.
Oh yeah, it was locked.
Harry definitely wasn't going to let the cops in.
He ran out into the hallway, he could see Harry just sitting there.
He rushed down the stairs and avoided Harry to the best of his ability,
unlocking the door.
The cops rushed in, immediately knowing to take Harry from the house.
Two policemen ran up to Harry and held him on the ground, forcefully and
probably painfully holding his hands behind his back as they cuffed him.
Harry's body was harshly pressed against the cold ground, but he did not fight
back. His hands were being twisted behind his back horribly, he felt as if they
were going to break in any moment. The policemen had no mercy.
He made no effort to stand up from the floor, he just made his body go heavy
and laid there.
He kept muttering Louis' name though. The blood from his head had gotten on the
floor, but he didn't give a single shit.
The warm tears silently fell from his eyes as they forced him to get up, and
start walking.
He fought back of course, "I don't want to go there…" he shook his head
frantically, "I would rather die than go back there!" He exclaimed, and his
eyes soon landed on Louis' body.
"You promised." He breathed, the tears drowning his face. "Don't let them take
me... Don't make me go in there. I am begging you..." And his voice broke once
again at the end of his sentence.
The police continued to shove him around.
His body ached, his head was pounding and all he wanted was to kiss Louis one
more time, for the last time. He wanted that more than to be free.
His eyes locked with Louis' blue ones, with those two oceans, those two pieces
of heaven. He whimpered, his face was red and hot, his breath heavy.
He tugged away from the man that was holding him, falling to the floor with
him. Everything hurt, but he stood up, policemen were all around, pointing at
him, but he just wanted those lips, no matter if that meant to be shot.
I don't know how, but he managed to get to Louis and there he was pressing a
tender, shaky kiss to his lips.
Louis didn't push away, he really couldn't.
He was backed up against a wall when he had come downstairs.
He made sure that none of the cops saw him, his lips moving against Harry's.
"You promised you wouldn't hurt me." He retorted against Harry's mouth.
Harry was then forcefully pulled away from Louis' body, both big their lips a
bit red.
Harry was lead outside and into a squad car, Louis standing in the doorway.
He had to admit that he felt bad.
Harry seemed so unwanted and confused and misunderstood.
He could hear the police chanting the the Miranda Rights to Harry, though his
right to a lawyer wouldn't help him at all.
He would be in jail for a long, long time.
Harry couldn't have felt a greater good as Louis' lips moved back against his
own. It was like the light in all the darkness that was currently surrounding
him, and would surround him for the rest of his life.
"I didn't want to hurt you like that..." He whispered, before he was tugged
away from him. Tugged away from his heaven.
The heaven he had so solemnly destroyed.
He was pushed into the squad car, and the door was banged closed. He flinched,
the tears still coming down his face.
He looked at Louis, through the window, and he mouthed something to him.
Something like, "so pretty..." And he sighed, he tried to clean the tears with
his bare shoulder, but he failed.
He then turned to the cops, shooting daggers at them with his eyes.
"I want clothes. I want to wear clothes." He whispered, between greeted teeth,
seeing as he was practically naked, the only piece of clothing covering his
body, being his bloody boxers.
Harry would surely have insanity defense.
That would get him out of jail, but into a mental institution, /again/.
Louis started to cry.
He was crying hard.
Was he right for calling the police?
Was Harry just having a phase?
He stared out the window at Harry, chewed roughly on his bottom lip.
The police were quite rough with him, as they should be.
Harry didn't deserve to be treated like a civilized human.
Yet, he was still so find of the older boy.
Because he took his virginity.
That was really the only reason.
Sure, it wasn't how he had imagined or wanted, but it happened and he could've
do anything about that.
The police locked Harry in the car before they came back into the house to
briefly question Louis on what had happened. They had ignored Harry's please
for some clothing.
He would have the same clothes on that he had earlier in the day.
Harry couldn't understand anything, he couldn't understand why Louis had called
the police to come and get him, but still kissed him back moments later.
Was he just trying to please him?
Did he think he would still hurt him if he didn't?
No.
That couldn't be, he was handcuffed. He could not hurt him, he did not /want/
to hurt him.
Harry gulped and looked as some cops walked towards crying Louis, he really
couldn't help the small smile that formed on his lips as he looked at him.
Why was Louis crying though?
Shouldn't he be happy?
Happy that he finally got rid of the rapist, the killer, the bloody psycho?
His smile died, and he turned away.
He looked down at his naked legs, wiggling his toes a little, a small chuckle
escaping his lips.
It was incredible how his mood changed so fast. He then turned back to Louis
and sent him a kiss.
Moments later the police came back to the car and turned it on.
That's when he started to freak out again, he didn't want to leave Louis.
He wanted to be able to at least see him from afar, but they were taking his
happiness away.
Louis had answered the cop's questions.
"Did he rape you?"
'No'
"Did he drug you?"
'No'
"Did he threaten you?"
'No'
Why was he protecting Harry?
He definitely didn't deserve to be defended.
The cop car was still parked on the side of the road.
He could see that they were typing things on the tablet they used to keep
files. He leaned against his door.
He looked down at his wrists and the skin was starting to scab up.
It was still broad daylight outside, he could see Harry perfectly through the
police car window.
He sniffled, wiping his face off.
There was a small smile plastered into his lips.
He genuinely felt like Harry didn't /want/ to hurt or kill him, he was mentally
ill after all.
He mouthed an 'I'm sorry' towards Harry, making his eyes water even more.
Harry had stopped crying, but he could help the single tear that escaped his
eyelid as he watched Louis.
He had calmed down as soon as he saw the car wasn't moving. He must've looked
like fool, but who cares?
He looked at Louis carefully, leaning his forehead against the glass.
He would've waved, but his hands were on his back.
He gulped, remaining quiet for a few seconds, his eyes scanning up and down his
body.
He wishes they were still in Louis' bed, sleeping. His long arms wrapped around
his small body, their hands intertwined and his lips pressed to his shoulder.
He wishes he hadn't woken up.
He would've loved to stay like that forever, so peaceful.
'I'm sorry I ruined your life' he mouthed back, but he was almost certain Louis
would not understand, or would he?
He hoped yes.
And he really was sorry, but he did not regret any of his actions, he would do
it all over again if it meant to be with Louis.
'Save me.' He whispered, hoping Louis could understand what he wanted to say.
Which actually made another tear roll down.
Louis let out a shaky sigh.
He shook his head.
He didn't understand what Harry had said at first, but he read his lips and
knew he had said 'save me'.
He couldn't do that.
Even if he wanted to, he couldn't.
Harry deserved to be in jail.
It was good for him to be there.
He needed to be in there and get help.
He made sure the cops were occupied as he jogged down the pathway.
He leaned down and placed his hand on the window, smiling at Harry.
He very distinctly mouthed, 'I'll try to come visit you'
Would he really though?
Or was he just trying to make Harry feel better?
He pressed a kiss to the window.
Harry felt his heart shatter a little as Louis shook his head, but he
understood. He really did, same thing had happened with his parents, the only
difference was that his parents had actually tried, but it just wasn't
possible.
Some more tears slipped out of his eyes, but these tears were full of joy and
happiness.
That would be the only thing to look forward to things now, to give him hope.
If Louis was just trying to make Harry feel better, then he did a great job at
it.
He made the boy happy, he made him smile, dimples and all.
A small chuckle escaped from his lips as he looked at Louis' lips pressed
against the window. He leaned forward too, pressing his lips against the glass,
just in front of Louis'. He just wished there was nothing between them.
Louis pulled back and bit his bottom lip, giving Harry a small wave as the
police started to drive off, leaving Louis unnoticed.
He wasn't going to visit him.
There's no way.
Harry needed help.
That was easy to tell.
He stood there in his big sweater and boxers, his arms crossed tightly over his
chest.
He had dark bruises littered on his neck and he had scabbed wrists, a small cut
in his side from the knife, and red, chapped lips.
He kept watching until the car was completely out of his sight.
Harry was definitely going to a better place now.
He couldn't hurt anybody else or himself for that matter.
He had a lot of problems and Louis just hoped that he could get better.
***** Trust Beyond Mistake (part 2) *****
Chapter Summary
     After 2 years Louis finally decides to visit Harry at the mental
     institution
Chapter Notes
     this was co-written by 1Disafantasy
     you can also find me on punkyflowers.tumblr.com
     I can answer questions about the fic and characters ^.^
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Harry had been taken to a mental hospital again, but this time he was put in a
room with more security, he had been assigned two nurses, night time and day
time.
He was not allowed to interact with the other persons in the institution.
The first week was a peaceful one, it was the week where he had been waiting
for Louis' arrival with a huge smile, then there were two weeks, and Louis was
nowhere to be seen. Which touched a nerve in him, made him mad and sour.
Then there was third week, he had started to harm himself with his own hands,
his nails, hitting his head against the wall. He was just trying to make the
emotional pain go away with physical, but that was just a bad idea, because he
was then moved into a room with foam walls and put a restraining garment,
stopping him from moving his hands.
He refused to take his medicine the first two months, so they started to put it
in his food, and Harry didn't know, but he refused to eat, too.
All he could think of was Louis, sometimes he just cried out of the blue.
The first year went by, Harry had realized Louis was never going to stop by. He
had started to eat again, he was now willingly 'taking' his medicine, they'd
give him the pills and he'd 'swallow'.
He was put back in his old room, the garment was off, though sometimes he wore
it, like when he was having rough moments.
Harry's mind had slowly began to forget about Louis, but there was the voice,
always reminding him, making him see him and remember.
His pills were all hidden in the mattress, he didn't like them. He pretended to
take them, but he didn't.
He had received visits from his parents and his sister a few times, just about
three or four, they lived far away.
Year two had gone by, Harry was still not allowed to interact with the other
patients, they said he was a bad influence.
When he was told he had a visit, he was rather shocked, his parents had just
left last week, was it his sister? What shocked him the most, was the fact that
they /made/ him take his medicine.They basically drugged him.
Louis sat in the waiting hall of the institute, anxiety pooled up in his
stomach.
He hadn't been able to get away from his family long enough to come visit Harry
like he had promised, though he never thought he would have actually built up
the courage to come and see him.
He signed in to visit about a week ago, debating on whether or not he should
make his appointment time.
He had lied and told them that he was Harry's brother; he knows they would've
never let him in to see the man who had 'raped' him and attempted to murder
him.
He was called in to the visiting room and was told to sit and wait.
-
Two nurses slipped Harry not-so-easily into his straight jacket.
Even with his family members he had to be restrained. He couldn't be trusted on
his own.
The nurses and a police man escorted Harry into the visiting room, sitting him
down and keeping close watch on him as they left and closed the door.
The entire room was made of soundproof glass, so the police could at least see
if something was going wrong.
And there he was.
Harry was sitting right in front of him.
Louis folded his hands on top of the table that was between the two of them.
He had no idea what he was supposed to say to the, now twenty two year old,
boy.
Harry hated that jacket, he felt vulnerable, but let's be honest... With or
without the jacket, he /was/ vulnerable.
Harry did not want to see anybody, not even his family, he wanted to be alone
for a little while.
The medicine made him feel funny, hence why he didn't fight that much as they
escorted him towards the visiting room.
He was sat on a chair, and moments after the door of the room was shut. His
curls were falling overs his eyes, they were like a jungle, all tangled and
wild. They restrained him from looking around, that is until he shook his head
and they were moved to the side, most of them at least.
His beautiful green orbs landed on Louis, he did not recognize him instantly,
it actually took him a little while to decipher that the pretty boy from two
years ago was sitting in front of him. He couldn't believe this was how he
looked now, he was really handsome, he looked more manly.
He frowned, his breath becoming heavy. He was hallucinating again, he was
seeing things that weren't there again, wasn't he?
His eyes moved away from the boy and looked around the glass room, looking for
someone else, looking for his sister.
His eyes landed back on Louis, his lower lip quivered a little, before finally
having the courage to speak.
"Please just tell me if I'm imagining you." He said, his voice a bit raspy, but
still deep, "That's what they say I do." He whispered for himself, shaking his
head.
All this time was definitely not easy for Harry, he would freak out over Louis
a lot. He would beg to be allowed to see Louis, and now that he finally had him
in front of him, he told him he was part of his imagination.
He leaned forward on the table, his brows furrowed together in concentration,
"Is it really you?" His eyes were pleading, his face showed concern.
Louis couldn't help but chuckle at Harry's words.
He nodded his head slowly, his foot tapping nervously under he table.
He wasn't even a little bit surprised that Harry had remembered him, how could
he not?
"Yeah, Harry," he spoke, resting his elbows on the table and leaning in top of
them, "It's me."
Harry looked mostly the same.
He had a bit of stubble littered across his face, and his hair was slightly
longer.
Louis on the other hand had changed quite a bit.
His voice was a bit lower, though he hadn't grown even an inch in height.
His face was still clear of stubble, he didn't like it on himself.
His hair was fringed and swept to the side.
"I tried, Harry. I /really/ tried to come and visit." Louis insisted.
Lies.
Why would he want to come and see him?
Only a few months after the incident with Harry, Louis was able to move on and
forget about that night.
He hadn't even remembered Harry until a few weeks ago when by he older boy's
trial was held on television.
He couldn't possible get away from his family without raising suspicion.
His style hadn't changed much. He wore tight jeans and Vans, still with
sweaters but not as often as when he was younger.
"You look, uh, good." He complimented, he really did, that is, for somebody in
Harry's position.
Harry's eyes moved up and down Louis' face, "Don't laugh at me..." He
whispered, shaking his head slowly, barely moving it.
He gulped, leaning in even more, "Touch me." He said, "Touch my face, make me
believe you're actually here."
And that might actually be serious or just an excuse for Louis to touch him.
The curly haired male closed his eyes as he heard him speak again, he should've
stayed quiet.
"Don't.." He said between greeted teeth, though his face still looked peaceful.
"Don't even try to fool me." He's been working hard on how to control his
reactions, his mood, but he isn't exactly good at it... Yet.
"You are a liar!" He exclaimed, though he quickly closed his mouth, turning his
head towards one side and then to the other. Oh, thank god there was no one
coming.
"I waited for you two years. I waited for you twenty four months. I waited
ninety six weeks, 730 days." Yes, he's had a lot of time to think.
"And you come here to tell me you bloody /tried/?" He questioned, frowning. "I
bet you I tried harder than you, I bet I did more to get it. And I'm /in/ here,
and you being outside couldn't do anything... You didn't even try." He said.
"You were my only source of light in here…" his voice cracked a little.
Harry took in a deep breath, pressing his forehead against the table. He
remained quiet, he was calming himself, and thank god he had taken his
medicine, because otherwise he would have already insulted Louis, he would have
tried to take the jacket of, flip the table and scream.
He was not okay.
Everything was a kind of /act/ provoked by the medicine.
Harry sat back up, his back straight against the chair, "You too." He said,
"You're still really pretty." He murmured.
Louis raised an eyebrow.
"Harry you have no idea. I did try. I only just turned eighteen. How the fuck
was I supposed to sneak out and come see a rapist in a mental institute without
my parents getting worried? You're so fucking selfish." He spat. Even if he
didn't remember Harry all the time, at certain moments like when he was lying
in bed, his mind was telling that he was forgetting something.
He crossed his arms over his chest. He was pouting. Nothing new here.
"You don't even know me Harry. I am not the only light for you. I'm just some
kid that you tried to rape and murder, just like your other victims. What's so
bright about that?"
He ignored Harry's compliment. The older boy wasn't making any sense to him.
And Louis didn't intend to come and confront Harry, he just wanted to talk to
him, though he didn't know why.
He didn't move to go prove to Harry that he was in fact here, in person.
He would just have to believe that he was. Louis was told not to make any
physical contact with Harry even if he was restricted.
"I did not ask you to come." Harry whispered, "You offered yourself to do it.
You promised it out of your own will. Why?" He asked, "Why did you give me so
many empty promises? You lied to me so much, and you still continue to bloody
do it."
His voice was turning fragile, shaky and maybe even a bit raspy.
"Leave then." He felt his heart almost skip a beat, "Leave and that way you
won't have to see the fucking rapist, the murderer, the selfish /psychopath/
anymore. Isn't that what I am, what you've called me?"
Harry's expression was blank, you could not tell how he was feeling. Was he
sad? Or was he angry? Relieved, perhaps?
The curly haired male moved his eyes away from Louis, looking down at the
table.
An intake of breath.
"You don't know me either. You don't know what my light is, you don't know the
darkness surrounding me, inside me. You don't know what makes me happy, what
makes me laugh or smile. You don't know what I enjoy or what I dislike, what
makes me sad, what depresses me." He said firmly, shaking his head slowly,
before looking back up at him.
"If you are just another victim of mine, why the fuck are you here?" He asked,
"My normal victims don't tend to visit me here often... Oh, wait.. They're all
dead." He whispered, biting his lip.
He looked into Louis' eyes, "Why are you here, Louis?"
Truth was... Harry was angry, he wanted to pull his hair out of his scalp and
hurt his body, but 1, he can't move his hands at all and 2, the medicine makes
him feel dizzy at times. He can't really focus.
Louis didn't know how to answer Harry right away. His eyes averted their gaze
from the older boy, staring instead down at his fingers.
Why did he come here?
Did he in fact /want/ to confront Harry? He didn't seem too upset about what
had happened the night the incident(s) took place.
"It seems like you don't want me here, Harry. I'll just go," he sighed, pushing
his chair out and standing up.
"I actually thought that you'd be happy to see me, but instead you're making me
feel like shit. I don't owe you anything. In fact, I should hoping that you rot
in this god damn place. But I don't want that. And it kills me that I don't
know why." He started to ramble on.
"I could've told the police everything that you did. How you attempted to rape
me, tied me to the fucking bed, and still continued to stay in my house. I
could've, yes, but I didn't. I didn't want to. I don't think you're a bad
person, Harry. I don't think that at all. I just think you're hurting. I didn't
want to make you suffer any more than you deserve."
Harry sat silently on the cold chair, his gaze focused on the table.
No words were uttered out of his mouth, he just listened to Louis.
He had nothing to say, he had no idea of what to say.
His eyes quickly shot up as Louis stood up. His chest started to move up and
down a bit faster. He didn't want Louis to leave, he wanted him to stay,
forever.
He did not listen to the rest of the words that rolled off Louis' tongue, at
least not most of them. All he cared was that Louis was leaving. I mean, he /
did/ asked him to, but he wasn't expecting Louis to do it.
"No.." He whispered, shaking his head. "No, don't, please don't..."
His cheeks were becoming hot, really really hot. "No, /please/." That's a
sensitive spot, I guess...
He just can't bare seeing Louis disappear again. "I am happy to see you, I
swear. I really am."
You can see his arms struggling to move through the fabric of the restraining
garment.
He is angry, angry with himself, with Louis, with everyone.
His jaw clenched softly, if he stands up, the guards outside will come for him,
is it really worth it?
His eyes watered a little, they burnt as he tried to fight his emotions from
showing.
He took in a deep breath, before he stood up too, towering over Louis' small
body, he lowered himself a little, resting his chin on Louis' shoulder, that
being the best he can do to hug him. "Don't leave. I don't know what's
happening with me. I-I think it's the pills and just my attitude mixed up.." He
whispered.
Louis looked past Harry's body, the guards keeping a close eye on Harry to make
sure he wasn't trying to hurt Louis. Louis sighed, wrapping his arms around
Harry and holding him tightly.
"Fine. Fine, but if I stay, you have to answer one question for me," he
negotiated, not waiting for Harry to approve of that before he pulled away from
the older boy's embrace.
He looked up at him, it was obvious that his threatening to leave genuinely
upset the twenty two year old. Louis thought for a few short seconds, hands
resting on Harry's sides.
"Why didn't you kill me the first night? I mean, what the hell was so special
about me?" He asked, it was something that confused him and made him wonder
almost everyday, that is, when the memory of Harry popped into his head which
wasn't too often.
Harry felt immediate relief as Louis hugged him tightly. He took in his scent,
he smelt good. He let out the breath inside his lungs, and before he knew it
Louis was away from his body.
He took a step forward, going to try and hug him again, but he stopped in the
middle of his actions.
'Why didn't you kill me the first night?'
Now, that was a great question.
He shrugged his shoulders quickly, "I wanted you to be alive for me." He said,
thinking slowly of his words, "I wasn't planning on leaving the day after, or
the day after that or after that." He confessed, "I needed you to live, for me
to /hear/ you." He bit his lip, "I guess... I just liked you. Liked how you
were, how you reacted to seeing me, to having me. I thought you were too
handsome to leave this world. You didn't deserve it... You were too good." And
that could mean how good of a person Louis was or how good he was in bed, only
Harry knows.
After that, Harry remained silent for a good few seconds, looking at Louis,
"now you answer mine." He said, "Why were you crying... When the cops were
talking to you, why were you crying?" That wasn't the question he originally
was going to ask, but he still wanted to know.
Louis smiled. The cops weren't looking at the two of them anymore. "Like I said
before," Louis started, pushing a few curls out of Harry's face since he
couldn't do it himself, "I didn't think you really deserved to be put back in
here. I think you just need somebody in your life. You're not a bad person,
Harry. Whether you or society believes it or not, I know you aren't. I guess
that I just felt bad for you."
He wasn't trying to pity Harry in any way.
Louis' parents had still never found out about that night since Louis had
called the police department and told the cops he had informed his mom and dad
about what had happened. He didn't want them to worry, and they also didn't
want then to press charges against Harry.
He didn't deserve that.
"When you weren't ordering me around or tying me to the bed or, I hate thinking
of it but, trying to kill me, I saw the real you. Now, I don't know why you
chose to be somebody totally different because the real you is amazing."
Harry listened carefully to the words being uttered out of his mouth. He nodded
his head in comprehension at some parts, at others he would just purse his
plump lips together.
Harry cocked his head to the side, leaning it against Louis' hand slowly as the
other moved his fringe away from his face.
"Stop saying that..." He muttered, shaking his head a little, taking in a deep
breath, "It isn't true. I /am/ a bad person, it all depends on how you see
it.." He told him, gulping.
He remained quiet for a good few seconds, staring into Louis' piercing blue
eyes in awe.
He darted his tongue out, moisturizing his lips swiftly, before letting his
lips again to verbalize words, "I'm not amazing, I'm horrible." He stated, no
hesitation in his words. "I slowly destroy everything I see, I hurt everyone as
I please. I'm just... /Bad/. Why would you ever think I'm amazing? I'm not.."
Harry knew and understood why Louis never visited him in the past few years, if
he were I'm his place he would've done the same. I guess he just reacted like
that, because he had wanted Louis to come so badly, because he really was
selfish and wanted Louis all to himself, and just the thought of Louis being
with someone else made him sick, angry.
"Tell me a single thing I have done to good for you. Something that actually
makes you say I'm good. A valid reason." He stated, "Just name it and I'll stop
telling you otherwise."
Louis thought for a few moments, pulling his hands away from Harry. "You spared
me." He said simply, his eyes fluttering slowly and gently. "I can tell you
didn't want to hurt me, you couldn't help the feeling. You stopped yourself,
though." Louis explained.
He wasn't sure if Harry could even remember exactly what had played out that
night, but Louis remembered it like it had happened yesterday. His life was
spared that night. Of course he would remember.
"I saw you, when I came back downstairs for the police. You looked so upset and
regretful. I know that you didn't want to hurt me."
"You knew I didn't want to hurt you, but you still called the police." Harry
bit his pink lip, his eyes plastered to Louis as he took in a deep breath and
shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't want to be here anymore." He whispered, jaw clenching tightly. He
slowly backed away from Louis and sat on the metal chair again. "I don't like
being alone in there.." He frowned, looking back up at Louis, his jaw still
clenched. It made the muscles there tense a bit, but he didn't stop.
"You know... I had to wear this jacket 24/7 for a whole year." He commented,
biting the inside of his cheek, "It wasn't so comfortable." He added, letting
out a small sigh.
He didn't know what else to say or do, so he remained quiet.
Louis nodded his head in understanding and he felt sort of bad. "I called
because I knew it would do you good to be in here for a while. You seem a bit
more under control." The younger boy assumed.
Louis turned away from Harry and sat back down in his chair, keeping his eyes
glued to Harry. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this but I think it was
for the best." He insisted. He didn't have much more time to stay and chat with
Harry, the guards had signaled that to him through the protective glass.
"But, I've been told that they're going to try and give you therapy. I just
really want you to try. You don't deserve to be in here for the rest of your
life."
"It is not your responsibility to think of what is good for me, that's for my
parents to think, and even then; they're wrong." Harry told him, before looking
down at his lap.
His lower lip trembled a little, before he decided to speak again, "I have been
in this place for six damn years all together, Louis. Do you really think it's
doing me any fucking good?" He asked him, his voice raising a bit.
I guess the medicine isn't doing much effect now. Has it really been that long?
"I don't want therapy. I'm not fucking crazy, damn it." His voice is raising,
just a little bit. "I don't want to be here for the rest of my life. Take me
out, Louis."
Louis shook his head an frowned. "It's not that simple Harry. This isn't like
bail. You've murdered people. You're here forever." He explained. Louis hated
to say it. How the hell would Louis ever be able to get Harry out of here? He
wouldn't.
"And you're going to therapy. They told me that if you do, you might, /might/,
be qualified to be quartered by somebody. I know your parents won't want you in
their house so I've already volunteered. But not if you don't improve." Louis
informed Harry. He was signaled that his time was up.
He sighed and stood from his chair, walking over to Harry. "By the way, from
now on, I'm your 'brother'. Okay?"
Harry knew it. He was well aware that his parents wouldn't take him in, nor
would his sister. They were all afraid of him, hence why they barely visit him.
Okay, Maybe they do live a bit far, but they're his parents, they'd do anything
to see their son often.
The thing is, that even if Harry knew all this; it still hurt. It hurt a lot to
know that his family didn't want him, but yet a stranger whom he tried to rape
and murder is offering himself to take him in his home.
"So if I go to therapy... If I do whatever they say, drink what they tell me,
I'm going to be able to get out of here, and with you?" Harry asked quietly,
biting his lower lip.
"My brother?" He asked, "Why?" Oh, Harry.
Harry just rested his head on Louis shoulder, closing his eyes for a brief
moment. His chin was being used to pull him close, and his curls were all over
his face, but he didn't mind.
Louis nodded, hugging Harry one more time. "I don't think they would've let me
visit you if they knew I was the person you tried to rape and murder. Do you?"
He asked rhetorically and a bit sarcastically.
Louis couldn't help but smile. He didn't know why Harry liked him so much, no
matter how many excuses the older boy gave him.
"If you improve with your behavior changes, then it's /possible/ that you can
come live with me. But I don't want you to get too excited. It could be months
before that happens." He explained. He didn't want to wait that long either,
but he knew it was best that Harry get some professional help first.
Harry shook his head slowly, "No, they wouldn't have let you." He agreed,
letting out a soft sigh. "I don't want you to leave yet, Louis. Can't you stay
a little bit more?" He asked, his head still resting on one of his shoulders.
Harry knew the answer, he knew he couldn't stay any longer, but he just felt
the need to try, to ask for a possibility.
"What if I don't accomplish it?" He asked, biting his lip. "What if I don't
improve and get worse, will you still visit me?" He wondered, hope all over his
voice.
He knew this was it, the sound of the door opening said it all. "Are you coming
again, Louis?" He asked, the footsteps echoing around the room rather loudly.
The curly haired male could feel his heart starting to beat faster, he didn't
want to leave the room, but he wasn't going to fight back either. "So, are
you?"
Louis smiled and pulled away from Harry, his arms resting at his sides. "I'll
try, I promise" he answered, the two guards that were standing inside now
directly behind Harry. "I really do promise this time." He assured.
The guards grabbed onto Harry's restrained arms, motioning for Louis to leave
first.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he said, looking back at the curly haired boy. He knew
that nobody actually cared about Harry here and it made him feel awful.
Louis turned and left, staring at the floor as he exited the heavily secured
building and made his way to his car. He got in, just sitting there for a few
minutes. What was he getting himself into?
-
Louis was glad he had finally been able to afford his own apartment. It was
anything special but it was nice to be out of his parents' house.
He pulled out of the parking lot and drove off to his apartment building, it
was a ways away from the institute.
Harry soon felt the hands of the guards holding him down on the chair and
motioning Louis to leave.
Harry gave him a faint smile, biting his lower lip, "Goodbye." He said lowly as
he watched the small figure soon disappear through a door. He gulped, darting
his tongue out and moisturizing his lips swiftly.
The guards soon made him stand up from the metal chair. Harry let out a sigh as
he stood up, he towered over them, but that didn't matter, they could do
anything to him if he tried something. They had their hands and he didn't.
Harry lazily moved his feet against the floor as he was led back to his room.
He wasn't even sure if they would allow him to take off the jacket.
"Are you taking the jacket off?" He asked with a slightly hoarse voice, but he
got no answer.
They just did their thing, and slowly took the jacket off, leaving him alone
once again.
He bit on his lower lip, standing in the middle room, until his nurse entered
to the room again.
He stared at her, before sitting on the edge of the bed. His green eyes still
on her.
The nurse did what she had to do routinely, making sure Harry was settled in
his room. "You'll be starting your therapy first thing in the morning." She
informed him monotonously, it was obvious that she didn't like Harry.
She left without another word.
-
Louis had arrived at his house and he crashed onto his bed almost immediately.
Was he really going to commit to this?
He had tried so hard so many fucking times to figure himself out.
Why does he care so much about people? Why can't he ever put himself first?
Especially for a murderer.
He shut his eyes and kicked his shoes off, letting them sit next to his bed,
his hand folded and placed on his stomach. He just stared at the ceiling.
Seeing Harry did something to him. It brought the memories of that night back
into his mind and he wasn't sure if it was good or bad.
Harry just rolled his eyes, lying back on the bed. He didn't want to go to
therapy, he didn't want to see /her/ again nor did he want to take these
medicines that only made him dizzy and feel sick as fuck.
Harry slipped into the sheets of the bed, wrapping them firmly around his body.
It took him a bit to fall asleep, but he finally managed to do it. It wasn't
like he had anything else to do.
His curls rested on the pillow in a messy way, some of them getting on his face
too, but it wasn't like he was aware of it.
In just a few hours, he woke up, it wasn't the morning yet though. Just his
normal thing to do; waking up and stare at nothing and everything without
saying a word and just and hour later, maybe more or less, he'd go back to
sleep.
His night nurse didn't even find it odd anymore, they were all used to it and
so was Harry.
It was much of a habit.
His dreams were filled with Louis' face, with what had happened the night, or
at least what he could remember.
Louis felt so guilty right now.
He hadn't been able to sleep at all because of his visit with Harry. He didn't
understand what Harry did to him but he was absolutely certain that he didn't
care.
He felt like he needed Harry right now, in more ways than one.
Just seeing his face and hearing his voice, as strange as it sounds, made him
crazy.
All Louis knows for sure, is that whenever he pleasures himself, he's thinking
of Harry. He thinking of that night.
It's disgusting.
He usually tried to ignore the feeling since he knew it was wrong to be turned
on by something that violent but he just couldn't help it.
He put his hands under his thighs to keep them at rest just after he had
shimmied underneath the blankets, staying in the clothes he had been wearing
when he visited the institute. He could still see Harry, the thought making him
smile.
Harry was not expecting to wake up the next morning with sticky boxers. Hell,
this hadn't happened since he was a teenager! But who could blame him? His
dreams were full of Louis sprawled out for him, lingerie with little bows being
used. He just couldn't help himself, he couldn't control it. Everything was so
graceful, yet not quite.
The strange thing was that he had not released the night it happened, and now;
he's cumming full on with only /dreams/ with only /thoughts/.
He pursed his pink lips together, sitting correctly on the bed, his back
pressed against the cold wall. A smug smile rested on his features as he stared
down at his lap. He did not mind people knowing he had a wet dream, he did not
bother to hid it, he just let it be. He would be changed eventually.
He stared at the door, waiting for someone to come, change him, and then take
him to said therapy, perhaps he'd have breakfast first?
-_
Louis on the other hand, felt totally disgusted by his actions. He didn't think
twice before he hand wrapped his hand around himself and used his free hand to
bury two fingers inside of himself, pumping his fingers and his shaft until he
came shamefully. He had quickly cleaned himself off and went downstairs, making
himself some tea to hopefully refresh his body from having a completely
sleepless and restless night.
-
The nurse swiftly swiped her keycard and entered Harry's protective room, a
pair of clean, yet the same style of, clothes for Harry.
She was running a bit late. "No shower this morning, Harry," she informed him,
walking over to his bed and setting the clothes down, "You can shower after
your session."
She knew Harry could dress and undress himself, almost all of the patients were
very independent, but there was a strict protocol for this institute.
She pulled Harry's shirt up over his head and tossed it to the floor, slipping
to clean shirt onto his body and doing the same with his trousers. "C'mon,
trouble. We'll go to the cafeteria and get you some food. Then it's time for
your therapy."
Harry frowned softly, he wanted to shower, he kind of /needed/ to. It wasn't
his fault that they were late, he had woken up just in time.
He parted his lips to utter words, but she was already undressing him. He
adjusted the shirt on his body and then looked back at his nurse, who was
already tugging his trousers down. He let out a sigh, getting rather
exasperated, "I want to shower right now." He said, but still allowed her to
continue changing him.
They looked ridiculous, he towered over her, she was delicate and small and he
wasn't, but yet here she was changing him like a baby, but he didn't exactly
mind.
"I feel uncomfortable going like this." And maybe that was just an excuse to
not go to therapy.
As much as he wanted to get out of here, to please Louis, to prove him he could
get better, he knew it wasn't going to be easy, that from one day to another he
wasn't going to change his attitude and way of being, that was just not
possible.
The nurse sighed and looked up at Harry once he was completely dressed. "I
know, darling. I'm sorry" he apologized. She liked Harry. He was actually a
good guy.
"I promise, as soon as your therapy is over you can take a nice long shower,
okay?" She assured, picking up Harry's straight jacket from the floor. "And for
now, you still have to wear this." She said, deeply frowning at the fact that
Harry needed to be restrained when he didn't need to be.
She slipped the jacket on him with no resistance and clipped the sleeves behind
his back.
"Let's just get this over with, yeah?"
-_
Louis cupped his tea cup in the palms of his hands, staring at the black blank
television screen.
He was planning on seeing Harry again today, he really wanted to see him.
"Okay." Harry said, biting on his lower lip slowly. Harry let out another sigh,
slipping his arms into the jacket and waiting for it to be clipped behind his
back. He moved a little inside of it, before finally plopping off the edge of
the bed and being led towards the cafeteria.
There wasn't much variation there, nothing too extravagant to choose from, but
it wasn't bad, not at all, Harry just chose to not like it, he found it /
boring/.
"What am I going to eat today?" He questioned, his emerald eyes roaming through
the room briefly, before they landed back on his nurse, waiting for an answer.
The nurse shrugged her shoulders, examining the dishes and boxes of cereal and
bowls of pre made eggs. "What do you want?" She asked, resting her hand on
Harry's bicep. "You only have like ten minutes so choose quick." She added,
bringing Harry up to the table and sitting him down in a chair.
She had to literally feed him like an infant because if she didn't, she'd lose
her job.
-
Louis had finished his cup of tea, standing Ron the couch and rinsing out his
cup before he made his qua up the stairs and into the bathroom.
He started the shower, akin sure the water was hot before he left to get
another outfit.
He stripped himself and got into the shower, starting to wash himself. He liked
going to see Harry, even though he had only done it once, he didn't realize how
much he actually missed the older boy.
The curly haired male just shrugged his shoulders, "I don't care, choose
whatever you would eat." He told her, before following her to the table and
sitting down.
Harry was used to the nurses feeding him, but it wasn't like he actually
enjoyed it. It was exasperating, he felt pressured to eat faster and just
uncomfortable. "Why can't I eat by myself, again?" He asked, yet another time.
He knew the answer, but he liked to reminded, plus it made conversation between
them and didn't allow an awkward silence get over the moment.
Though if that were the case, it'd be more awkward for the nurse than anybody,
because Harry would just stare with those green, killer eyes.
The nurse just sighed and walked up to the table with food sprawled on it,
grabbing a plate of eggs and some toast for Harry.
She pitied him. She really did. Harry was a sweet guy and she hated that she
was the only one, so she thought, that could see that.
She returned to the table with a fork also, sitting down and gathering some of
the eggs on the fork, holding them up to Harry's mouth. "Soon enough Harry.
Soon you'll be out of here and with that nice boy I saw yesterday. Your brother
isn't he?" She conversed, just wanting Harry to feel comfortable around her.
-
Louis finished his shower, stepping out and drying himself off before he
slipped on his briefs, a pair of bright red tight jeans and a creme colored
sweater.
He towel dried his hair and brushed his teeth. It would take him about an hour
to get to the institute so he figure he better leave early.
Harry licked his lips slowly, before parting them and leaning in. His mouth
engulfing the fork, he pulled back and started to chew.
He listened to her words carefully, giving a light shrug, before swallowing.
"That is... If I even accomplish whatever they want me to accomplish by going
to therapy." He told her, taking in a deep breath. "Er.. Yeah, my brother." He
nodded biting on his lower lip, yeah, that totally made him uncomfortable, but
at the same time it made a huge grin spread across his features.
Wow, just thinking about him makes him happy. What's going on with these two?
That's the only thing he's actually looking forward to today; seeing Louis once
again. There was a moment where he actually though he had just had a /great/
dream, I mean it's not like he didn't dream of that happening at least once, in
the past two years.
The nurse just nodded her head, continuing to feed Harry until all of the food
was gone. "I know you will, Harry," she said, and not only because she was
required to have faith in the patients as a type of support and giving of
confidence but because she truly thought he could do it.
"C'mon, let's get you upstairs." She said, helping Harry up and leading him to
the elevator.
-
Louis slipped into his car and put on his favorite radio station, singing
immediately along with the words of the song as he pulled out of his parking
spot.
He headed towards the highway and felt his stomach coiling with the familiar
anxiety and excitement he had felt yesterday when he went to visit Harry at the
institute.
-
The nurse lead Harry to the psychologist's office, letting herself in and
arriving just in time for Harry's appointment. She gave him a small smile
before she sat Harry down in front of the therapist's desk, then she left.
"Hello, Harry. I'm doctor Smith. I'm sure that you're a bit anxious about
therapy and getting better, but I know that you can do this. How was your
morning?" Dr. Smith started, wanting to greet Harry as warmly as possible like
he did with all of his patients.
"Whatever you say." Harry rolled his eyes, he didn't mean to be rude though.
That was just how he acted, how he was.
He stood up and followed her into the elevator. He was soon taken through a
long hall and into what seemed the psychologist's office.
His expression was blank by then, he silently sat on the chair and his green
orbs landed on the man sitting on the other end of the desk. He listened to his
words, crystal clear, but he just decided to remain quiet.
He didn't want to talk to him, he didn't want to be here, he just wanted to go
back to his room, shower and go back to sleep, or even just see Louis already.
His jaw was clenched and it was clear that he was not enjoying this visit, and
that he was totally not going to cooperate, oh, he'll he wasn't.
He was not going to fall for this act, all these 'nice' people, trying to help
him, ha. He was disgusting and a bad person.
/woah/
He's letting the voice take over his thoughts again. That's not good. And soon
enough, he's grimacing, "Awful." He muttered, his voice a bit husky.
Dr. Smith frowned deeply. "I'm sorry to hear that, Harry." He said genuinely,
he wasn't trying to mock or make Harry angry, he just wanted to help him.
Really.
"Well, Harry, I guess we'll jump right into this, yeah?" His frown turned into
a smile and he folded his hands upon his desk.
"Why don't you tell me a little bit about this behavior problem you have." He
stated, not asking but telling.
He had been well aware of the true reason Harry was going to therapy, not
because of the things he had done but because of how he acted towards other
people.
His crimes had already been taken care of, but he still had a lot of work to be
done.
-
Louis tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and he turned to exit the
highway at the designated and correct street, trying to calm his nerves by
changing the station and attempting to find a good song. He didn't know why he
was so nervous today. Maybe it was because he was afraid that Harry might
actually improve and move in with him. But, he should be happy about that.
Shouldn't he?
"Sure thing." And Harry's rolling his eyes again, he just can't help himself.
He just finds it false and odd when people talk to him like that, and there's
only one reason to that; he's not used to being treated like a /normal/ person.
Harry pursed his lips together once more, listening to the doctor, he nodded
his head slowly. He wasn't so sure if he was going to answer or not, though.
A light scoff left his mouth at the statement, "There's nothing to tell." Oh,
Harry, believe me; there's a lot to tell.
//you don't have behavior problems. You're perfectly fine.//
"I don't have behavior problems, I'm perfectly fine." He told him.
Fuck, he's actually allowing the voice to tell him what to say, this is bad,
really, really bad.
Harry really wanted to leave this hospital and move in with Louis, he really
did. He doesn't even know his last name, but he just wants to leave with him.
The thing is that what Louis wants him to do isn't as easy as it seems, it's
not like he can block that damn voice, some times the medicine does, but still.
Dr. Smith sighed. Hs job is never easy. Barely any cooperation.
"Harry, please. I've seen you around here. It's like you're bipolar or
something," and maybe that wasn't exactly right but he was trying to prove a
point. "This will go so much easier if you just work with me, okay? I know you
want to get out of here and you can if you just cooperate." He stated, a but
sternly.
He knew what was wrong with Harry. Whether Harry himself knew or not, well,
that's his problem. But it's that exact problem that needs to be fixed.
Dr. Smith cleared his throat before speaking again. "Answer me this at least.
What is one of the things that upsets you? Or angers you?"
Harry frowned deeply, his jaw clenching yet again, "I am not bipolar." He
stated, but he was. He cocked one of his eyebrows next, looking at the man
sitting before him, "And tell me-- what exactly is going to be easier, your
job?" He inquired, obviously not amused or giving any signals of wanting to
cooperate.
//him//
"You." He answered, "You anger me, this place angers me, the office, this very
instant, the medicine, my nighttime nurse, this clothing, the fact that I can't
eat, change or shower alone. My parents anger me a lot, they also make me --."
//stop talking, you dick head. Now; you don't want to leave this place, not
yet//
"---I don't want to lea-." And he shut himself, realizing what he was saying.
He has a frown in his features, obviously having a war inside his head.
His green, furious eyes are gone off the doctor, they're now concerned and
plastered to his lap, biting on his lesser lip.
He's not feeling very comfortable with the situation anymore, he just really
wants to leave.
Dr. Smith just loudly sighed. "Harry, my job will never be easy, no matter how
well my patients cooperate. I'm saying that this will make your life easier.
Not being in here. I know you have what it takes to get out of here so why are
you being so difficult?" He asked, tapping his fingers on the table top before
he grabbed his pen, quickly jotting down some brief notes about Harry's first
few minutes of session.
Every patient had said about the same thing as Harry; hating the whole
institute and everybody in it or involved with it.
"Harry, please. I know you want to leave, don't even try to tell me otherwise.
I was informed that your brother was here yesterday. Don't you want to get out
of here and go with him?"
Dr. Smith's voice was softer and more relaxed than before.
The medications that Harry is on just don't work with his mood swings, it's
like his body is resisting the effects of them.
"Tell me what you /really/ want."
He did not utter a single word in response of the other's statements, he just
stared for a brief moment, before simply shrugging his shoulders.
He was so tempted to say otherwise; to tell him Louis was not his brother as it
was said, that he was just another victim of his, another person he tried to
rape, but he just remained quiet, for two reasons: one, he wanted to leave with
him and two, he knew Louis was more than just a victim.
//you don't want to leave with him//
He pursed his lips, the words almost slipping out of his mouth, but he
restrained himself from it. From saying what /he/ told him to say. "Perhaps I
do..." He finally managed to verbalize some words; words of his own, and it was
obvious, because his expression was different.
Harry wasn't so sure if he liked Dr. Smith's tone of voice, or if it was a real
one, but he just put that fact aside.
His head hurt, and a lot, he just wanted to leave the office, he wanted to rest
and just finally shower. He felt dirty, disgusting, he just couldn't stand it.
He was sure the doctor could perceive his scent, his awful scent.
"I really want to shower and go back to my room to rest." He answered, even
though that wasn't what he wanted the most, what he /really/ wanted. Maybe in
another session he'll speak about that.
Dr. Smith didn't say anything more. He simply nodded his dad at Harry's words.
He knew that he couldn't expect Harry to be comfortable with therapy at his
first session. "I suppose we can finish for today," he sighed, pressing a
button on his phone to ring a nurse to come for Harry.
"I'll see you tomorrow, same time then." He informed the curly haired boy, the
nurse at the door and letting herself in within only a few minutes.
"Alright Harry," the nurse began, walking over to him and standing him up,
though she knew damn well he was capable of doing this himself, "Let's get you
cleaned up. Louis is here wiring for you." She finished, giving Dr. Smith a
gentle smile before placing her hand on Harry's bicep and leading him out of
the office.
Harry's head quickly turned towards the door as soon as it opened, curls
falling to his face, but he let them be, mostly, because there was no way he
could've moved them the way he wanted without his hands.
He completely ignored Dr. Smith as the presence of the nurse was in the room,
it was as if he did not see him anymore, as if he didn't exist.
You could see the tight fists starting to form under the fabric of the jacket.
If there were nothing covering his hands, you'd be able to see his white
knuckles.
He wanted to clean himself, with his own hands, just like that night in Louis'
house, to change by himself, eat, but that was just not possible now.
"He's here already?" He asked, before they started to walk out of the office.
It was as if all the anger had banished at the mention of Louis' name, at the
thought of him.
It was extraordinary.
The nurse smiled at Harry and nodded her head in response, leading Harry down
the hall and back to the elevator to go back down to his ward.
She took him to his room and swiped the keycard to Harry's room, closing the
door once they were inside.
"I'm going to let you shower by yourself today, alright? But, I'll stay right
out here. I can't leave you alone completely." She explained, spinning Harry
quickly around and unbuckling the boy's straight jacket.
"And don't take too long, Louis' been waiting for you," she added, keeping the
warm and sweet smile that she ways had on her face.
-
Louis sat in the waiting room of the institute, playing with the sleeves of his
sweater and tapping his leg vigorously on the floor.
He was more excited than nervous to see Harry, but excited nonetheless.
Harry couldn't really believe what he was going to be allowed to do. He was
glad, really really glad.
The curly haired male's arms were soon released from behind his back, he just
nodded his head at her words, even though he wasn't so sure he would be able to
do it.
He soon stepped into the bathroom and twisted the knobs to a warm temperature.
His clothes were soon resting all over the floor, his naked body just standing
there and looking at the water.
Taking in a deep breath, he stepped inside the water, his curls soaking and
straightening down his face. His slender fingers ran through them, soon
traveling his own smooth skin. Up and down his long legs, his tattooed torso
and marked arms. He bit on his lip, brushing the shower cloth against his body,
getting rid of all the sticky. Now dry mess in his intimate parts and abdomen,
that's what bothered him the most.
After a good few minutes the curly haired male stood in front if his nurse, a
white towel wrapping around his waist, he wasn't sure if he should change
himself or not. So he just stood there, staring, almost in a creepy way.
The nurse just walked beside Harry, going to his closet that was keycard locked
since it was strict protocol. The patients could hang themselves with their
articles of clothing.
She took out a white shirt and a pair of black pants, sort of like sweatpants.
She tossed them onto Harry's bed before walking over to the door and letting
herself out.
"Hurry up and dress, Harry. You don't need the straight jacket today but we'll
have to cuff you." She informed the curly haired boy before shutting the door
completely and waiting outside.
-
Louis was led to the same room he had been in before, told to sit and wait
while Harry was brought down to the visiting room.
Harry just stared at the nurse the whole time, he did not understand what was
going on. Were they testing him? Trying to know how he does things; if he's
capable of doing them correctly?
Or were they just being nice?
He had a deep frown in his features as he pulled the white shirt and black
pants on, his slender fingers interlocking with his wet curls briefly as he
ruffled them around.
He stepped out of the room with his nurse, white socks engulfing his feet.
He was lead into the visitor's room, the one he had been in yesterday. A pair
of shiny handcuffs around his wrists, a bit tight, but he said nothing.
His green eyes were plastered to the floor as guard took him to the table and
soon enough he was sitting on the chair in front of Louis.
His eyes slowly going up and meeting his blue one's, he could already feel his
heart beating really fast.
Louis just kept his eyes glued to the door as it slowly was unlocked and
opened, Harry coming inside with his hands cuffed behind his back.
There was still a table separating the two of them, it was the rules, but Louis
was just happy to see Harry.
"Hey," he said simply, a small smile spread across his thin lips.
He had his hands crossed on the table once again, chewing on a dry price of his
bottom lip.
It was definitely obvious that Harry was clean and tidy, you could see it not
only because of his wet hair but because he didn't smell like b.o. anymore.
Louis never thought he could ever be attracted to somebody like Harry but he
wasn't going to deny the way he felt.
The curly haired male licked his lips as his eyes scanned up and down Louis'
face. He was still really pretty, so handsome.
He gulped, not a single word left his lips for a good couple of minutes, he
just stared intently, memorizing his face with greater thought of the detail,
just as if this were the last moment he would have to see him, to hear him; to
breathe the same air as him. As creepy as it sounds.
"Hi." He croaked out, soon clearing his throat as he shifted a little in his
seat. His teeth grazed softly against his lesser.
Harry never thought he would like anyone, sure, he fancied lots of people, but
never in /this/ way. He never had his heart racing while seeing someone, unless
it was out of fear or nervousness. Of course, he won't admit that he likes
Louis, not yet at least. He knows nothing about him, literally, but Louis...
Louis knows quite a few things, maybe not /deep/ ones, but a lot of stuff about
his life.
Louis knew Harry was probably still pissed off another being in here, it was
quite reasonable but he still decided to ask him how he was.
"So, how was your morning?" He questioned, laying his forearms straight out
onto the table and resting his waist on them.
Louis was very tired at the moment, not having slept a single wink last night
since his mind wouldn't easily allow that to happen.
He yawned gently, bringing one of his hands up to his face to rub at his eyes,
making strange colors and shapes appear behind his eyelids.
"Sleep well?"
Harry pursed his pink lips together, giving a light shrug of shoulders, "As per
usual; awful, boring, grotesque." He answer his question, as if that were a
normal and common answer. Truth was: that his answer was normal to him; that
was his life, that's how it will always be, or so he thinks.
His fingers gently tapped against the chair, his emerald orbs fixed on the
feathery haired male before him, "Oh, good, really good. Just the usual, maybe
a little better." He said, letting out a small breath. "You did not sleep so
well, I reckon." He stated as a matter of fact.
He remained silent a few moments, studying his actions, "Why is that?" He
questioned.
Louis chewed his bottom lip, Harry was good at noticing things. "No I didn't,"
Louis started, his foot silently tapping against the wooden floor, "I couldn't
stop thinking about you." That was all he would say.
He wouldn't tell Harry that he felt guilty for fingering himself to the thought
of him, he didn't have to. It wasn't important.
"I can tell you're clean at least," he pointed out, emitting a small chuckle.
"Did therapy go well?" He asked curiously. He really wanted to know if he was
going to like therapy because whether Louis would admit it to himself or not,
he wanted Harry out of the institute and living with him.
His brows raised as he looked at him, no actual expression of happiness or
sadness being visible in his face, just blank with raised brows. "And was that
the good way of thinking of someone, or the bad one?" He questioned, his finger
movement soon stopping.
He looked down at his body, "I suppose.." He said lowly, biting on his lip.
"Maybe it did, maybe it didn't. How would I know?" He asked, but he was just
playing stupid. Truth was, that he didn't really want to talk about it. He
didn't want to admit how he had made it difficult for both, the doctor and
himself.
He dropped his hands back, making the metal of the handcuffs hitting against
the chair, echo around the room.
Louis just nodded his head. He let out a small yawn, his eyes clenching shut
briefly before reopening and blinking a few times to clear the fuzziness from
his vision. He wouldn't ask about therapy anymore. He wasn't quite sure that
Harry was actually going to improve with his behavior but he had to stay
positive and optimistic. He had to have faith in Harry but he was ready and
prepared to just be disappointed if Harry didn't do what he needed to do.
He cleared his throat before answering Harry.
"The /really/ good way of thinking of someone," he said, pursing his lips
together afterwards.
Harry nodded his head slowly, pursing his lips together for a brief moment,
before a smug smile took over his features.
"I like the way your mind works." He admitted, before a very low chuckle
slipped out of his mouth, making his eyes drop down to his lap.
He shook his head slowly, looking back up at the younger male. "I had quite a
night myself, the difference is, that I /did/ sleep." He simply said, biting on
his lower lip in a gentle manner.
He remained quiet for a good few minutes, his eyes resting on the shiny table
that kept their bodies separated. He frowned a little, parting his lips to
talk, but then quickly pressing them back together, that went on for just a few
seconds, before he finally deciding to stay quiet.
Louis sighed. He felt like it shouldn't be this awkward between to he two of
them. He knew it was probably stupid to ask but he felt like he had to.
"What's wrong?"
And maybe there wasn't anything wrong with Harry. He just seemed a bit down and
he usually wasn't this quite around Louis.
He completely disregarded the short conversation that had started about their
nights since Louis didn't feel like talking about it at all. He just felt
guilty for it.
He ran a hand through his hair, keeping the strands out of his face as his eyes
stayed trained on Harry, just wanting him to continue speaking.
Harry looked at the feathery haired male before him, he blinked once- twice,
before parting his lips to utter words, but just a short, low, "uh." Left his
mouth.
There was nothing wrong, was there? No, I don't think there was, neither did
he. "There's nothing wrong." He shook his head slowly, biting on his lip.
"I'm just... I'm acting normal, aren't I? --you aren't expecting me to freak
out over everything, right?" He asked him, raising one of his brows.
"What about you, is there something wrong with you?" He asked, "Are you
regretting taking me in with you?"
Louis just shrugged his shoulder at Harry's first question. The other boy just
seemed a bit more quiet than normal though Louis had never really spent that
much time with him one on one before.
"No," he answered, taking in a breath before he started to speak again, "I'm
actually quite excited for you to move in with me." He admitted. It was so
quiet when he was at home alone. And Harry, though he obviously wasn't a good
roommate to have, seemed like he would make Louis' apartment less lonely.
"But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't even know if you're going to
get out of here." He pointed out.
He didn't want to get Harry's hopes up of getting out of the institute and have
him be disappointed if he didn't improve with his behavior.
Harry had a small smile adorning his features as he listened to the other
speak. He nodded his head, wet curls bouncing slightly. "I'm ecstatic." He
muttered.
His emerald orbs were plastered to Louis, looking him up and down. He was
rather exited about finally leaving this institute, about not having to see any
of the nurses ever again, even if they were good with him.
A sudden frown took over his expression, making his body lean forward against
the table, he opened his mouth and bit his lip in thought. It was not long,
before confused and maybe angry words were leaning his mouth.
"So you don't think I'm leaving this place? Because I /am/. I'm trying. I'm
getting out of here." He said, the frown deepening. "Oh, so you think I'm not
capable of such? You think I can't do it?" And now he's just getting defensive.
Hey were doing so good, so calm; a normal conversation was going on, and now...
Now he's mad again.
Louis pursed his lips together and scooted back in his chair a bit. He didn't
know why Harry had to ruin their calm moments but he knew it was because of his
behavioral problems.
"M'sorry," he mumbled under his breath. That's not what he meant at all though.
He knew it would definitely be difficult for Harry to improve but he was sure
that he could do it.
He didn't say anything else right away.
It was times like this, when Harry got hostile, that he regretted coming to see
the older boy or even thinking about him.
"I know you can get out of here, Harry. I really do," he assured, his voice
quieter than usual, "but you have to want it. You haven't necessarily shown any
interest in getting better."
Now, that was true. Painfully true. The curly haired male flinched slightly at
his words, he just looked down at his lap and remained quiet. He was not used
to react like this, hence the frown in his face.
/What. Is. Wrong. With you?!/
He was motionless, blank expression now. His fingers were tangled with one
another, squeezing them together as tight as he could, almost crashing them,
but not quite.
He slowly lifted his head, blocking everything for a good couple of minutes. He
could see lips moving, but no noise coming out. It was as if he were in a
trance, but soon enough the noise hit him like a brick. Making him jump on his
own seat.
He locked his emerald orbs with Louis' blue ones. He knew he had made the boy
upset, and he felt bad about it. He had exaggerated, gotten defensive without a
reason, but he's just insecure about Louis chick ending out on this, because he
would never take in someone like himself.
With shaky lips and low, deep voice, he spoke once again. "I'm sorry." He
muttered. "I shouldn't have reacted that way. It was /wrong/ of me, and I'm
sorry." His words were barely audible, but they were there. "I didn't mean that
to happen." He added, looking away from his eyes.
Louis just nodded his head and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes not
leaving Harry.
"It's fine," he said monotonously.
It was definitely new for Harry to actually apologize for being wrong, but
Louis knew not to get too used to that.
"This is the reason you're going to therapy, Harry. You know that right?" He
tried to confirm.
He didn't want Harry to be going to therapy just so he could get out of here.
He wanted him to know exactly why he needed help though, the bigger reasons
like what he had done in his past, those were all overlooked. He was already
given his punishment for those things and they didn't need to be addressed any
further.
Harry's eyes did not met Louis' blue ones again after that. They remained
plastered down on the metal table. He listened crystal clear to his words,
every single one, but he did not utter a response. He didn't want to talk about
it, he doesn't enjoy these conversations, where he's told what's wrong with
him.
People would think it makes him angry to talk about it, but it just makes him
feel sad, hopeless. Makes him feel like he's a monster trapped in a young man's
body ; makes him pity himself.
His grip on his own hands was loosened, making the cuffs echo around the room
one more time.
He took in a deep breath, head shaking a little to the sides. "Louis, can I --
-." /no/ "Louis, can we---." /no/ he's getting frustrated. "Louis can you hug
me before the---." /NO!/ "---time's up?"
Louis felt his eyes furrow and he licked the corner of his mouth. He knew they
only had a few minutes before visiting hours were over and he didn't want to
leave Harry like this; probably depressed.
Louis didn't know why he was the only one that Harry would open up to or listen
to or smile with but he was happy that there was at least one person that cold
pull Harry out of his funks. It was just a bonus that that person was him.
He stood up from his chair and walked over to Harry.
"Everything's alright, yeah?" He asked, his voice staying calm and collected.
He knelt down next to Harry's chair, quickly looking over at the door to make
sure they weren't being watched at the moment since Louis wasn't necessarily
allowed to be this close to Harry.
Harry wasn't even sure himself as to why he was this way with louis and only
him. They barely knew anything about each other, they met one day and Harry had
done so many bad things to him.
It was a blur how they had gotten to be like this. How Harry had managed to
have Louis comforting him and taking him out if the mental institution, but he
was glad it was happening. Not only because he was going to be finally out, but
because it was /Louis/ with whom he was leaving.
Harry looked up at the young teenager, head raising just enough to leave a
crook in his neck for Louis' shoulder to fit. It was the only way he could hug;
hold him.
He gulped thickly, not even thinking about if they were being watched or not,
he just wanted to hold Louis' small frame. "Louis... How... Old are you?" He
murmured a bit hesitantly.
Louis wrapped his arms loosely around Harry's body, smelling his finally clean
hair. He didn't understand why age mattered at the moment, but he wasn't going
to just leave Harry's question unanswered.
"Eighteen," he said, pulling back from Harry and looking directly into him.
"Why?" He questioned soon after, he had figured Harry already knew how old he
was, but he hoped it didn't change anything between them.
Though, there wasn't really anything /between/ them. Just one night two years
ago that Louis tried not to remember.
Harry looked at Louis with worried eyes. Had he said something he shouldn't
have? Was it wrong of him to ask such thing? He felt himself become small,
which was physically impossible, but still.
He shook his head, "Don't let go off me." He whispered.
Age did not matter, he just wanted to make sure he had his facts right. Nothing
was going to change, there was nothing that could be changed anyways.
"I was just asking... There's no reason behind my question." Or is there?
"Please don't let go.." He repeated, before he stood up and pressed himself
against his body. His face buried into his shoulder. Taking in his scent, he
closed his eyes.
Louis cooed and wrapped his arms around Harry again, this time tighter, locking
his hands together behind his back.
"I can't stay Harry." He said, frowning and looking over at the door where one
of the cops was tapping their watch.
"I want to but I can't," he added, sighing into Harry's head of curls.
"But I'll be back tomorrow, okay?" He said, loosening his grip and backing away
just a little bit.
This is how he liked Harry. When he was affectionate like how he was that night
two years ago... At certain moments at least.
"Just, please. Please behave, yeah? If you do, you'll be out of here faster and
with me in my apartment."
He leaned in and pecked the tip of Harry's nose, smiling just to see if Harry
would too.
Harry remained close to Louis, his eyes still closed as he rested his head on
his shoulder. "I just want you to stay for a little bit more.." He whispered.
He did not know why, though. He had no idea of why he wanted him so badly. "I
don't want you to stop holding me. I don't like being alone with.." /don't you
fucking dare/" --with myself." If that made any sense.
"You promise, like really really promise?" He asked, biting his lip, before
pressing a discrete kiss to his neck. He looked into Louis' eyes as the other
backed away just slightly.
He listened to his words and immediately nodded his head, curls bouncing. He
really wanted that, to leave this please as soon as possible and be with Louis.
A small grin curled up by the corners of his lips, slight blush creeping to his
cheeks. He was not used to this kind of cute things. He could be such a child
when he wasn't in /that/ state.
He just wanted to lean in and taste Louis' lips one more time, just like that
night he had gotten to taste them for so long. He wanted to feel them one more
time, and not just dream about it.
Louis nodded and looked over at the guards.
They were talking amongst themselves.
"I promise, Harry. As soon as you get out of therapy tomorrow, I'll be waiting
for you."
He would be.
He liked coming to visit Harry. And yet, there was still that part of him, deep
deep down, that knew how disgusting and wrong this whole situation was. He
tried his best to ignore that part of him since he didn't care for it at all.
Louis just wised Harry could be like this all the time, this was how he really
was. Not some bipolar emotional wreck. Louis knew that /this/ is Harry's real,
genuine behavior.
"Just, really /try/, okay? For me?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper as he
moved in and pressed a three second kiss to Harry's lips, the guards still not
looking at the two of them.
"I'm looking forward to tomorrow then." He whispered in reply. He was actually
looking forward to therapy, because that meant he would see Louis afterwards.
He still couldn't understand why Louis was here in the first place, though. He
was slightly confused about the subject, because if he were Louis he would
never visit the person that tried to kill him and rape him; the person that
made him go through a hell of a night.
But nonetheless, he had stopped looking for answers to that.
Harry was frozen and with wide eyes as Louis pressed their lips together, he
was rather shocked, because they were surrounded by guards, hopefully none of
them saw. He felt almost as if his body was melting, his lips were still so
soft, and he just wanted more of them, god.
He inhaled deeply, restraining himself from leaning in and kissing Louis with
greater intensity. Instead he just nodded his head in reply to Louis' past
words, not actually being able to verbalize words.
Louis smiled and pushed Harry's curly from his forehead, standing up and slowly
walking over to the door. The guards unlocked it by the swipe of a keycard,
sliding the bulletproof glass door open and stepping aside for Louis to exit
the relatively small room.
"Behave. Please." He said, his eyes showing genuine want for Harry.
He wanted him to get better.
He wanted him out of this institute.
He just wanted /Harry/.
Still confused on why he felt that way, he just shrugged off the thought and
removed himself from the room, leaving Harry, once again, sitting in a chair,
restricted and waiting for a nurse and/or guard to escort him out and back to
his silent and boring room.
Louis left the institute and got into his car, starting it and turning the
radio off so he could just sit and think.
Chapter End Notes
     please comment and kudo~
     it'll encourage to write a third part, you can also suggest what
     you'd like to see next xx
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry has finally been let out of the institution and is being
     quartered with Louis. All seems well... For now at least.
Chapter Notes
     Once again, apologies for any mistakes! Happy reading!
It had been a few good months since Harry had first started going to therapy.
At first everything was hard, of course, that was expected to happen, but
eventually things started to get better with him. Things started to get fixed,
in some way at least, because mental problems don't disappear, they're always
there, just controlled. Everything could be back in just a split of a second
without giving a single warning, but the medicine was good, it controlled him.
The best part was that he had agreed to take it by himself.
The voice was gone, of course sometimes he could still hear it, with or without
the medicine, but he had learnt how to ignore it and not to what it said.
Today was /the/ day; the day where he was finally getting out of that institute
and going with Louis, forever, or so he hoped.
He had been given normal clothes that morning, clothes Louis had left for him
to wear this day. He liked them, he was glad he didn't have to wear any of the
institute's clothes anymore.
His emerald orbs stared down at his body, biting his lip. He was just waiting
for a nurse or guard to come get him.
The nurse swiped her keycard to Harry's room, a wide smile on her face.
She was very proud that Harry was able to change.
He set his mind to something and he did it.
"Today's the day," she chimed, her eyes practically beaming.
She was excited for Harry. Happy for him. Just overall proud of him.
She walked over to Harry, her pocket was holding a pair of handcuffs, again
just for protocol and protection purposes.
"Come on, then. Louis is on his way." She informed him, grabbing Harry's arm
and leaving him out of the room and to the elevator.
They waited until they got to the ground floor, Louis was just walking in the
door.
Everyday.
Every single day Louis came to visit Harry even when it seemed almost
impossible to get away.
Louis was smiling widely.
'Remember, he's your brother. Don't throw some big fiasco' he said to himself.
"Hey, Harry," he simply said. He couldn't deny, though, he was nervous. Totally
and utterly nervous.
Anxious.
He was kind of scared to have Harry move in with him.
But who wouldn't be?
Harry nodded his head, a smile curled up by the corners of his lips, teeth
grazing over his lip as he tried to hid his, oh so excited expression. He
didn't want to seem too eager about it, but truth was; he was dying for this
day to come. And it was finally here.
He was almost jumping up and down when they got into the elevator. His green
eyes stared at the number on top of the door and his smile just went wider when
they got to the ground.
He was nervous, really really nervous. He was also scared; scared of Louis
regretting this and turning away.
His chest moved up and down a bit quickly, he was just so happy. So many
twisted emotions, but not in the bad way.
As soon as he looked at Louis, he almost squealed. His dimples were more
prominent than ever. "H-Hi." He muttered.
Louis thought Harry was so cute when he's excited.
"Is everything set? All the paperwork filled out?" The nurse questioned,
patting Harry's shoulder gently and assuringly.
"Louis just nodded and looked fondly at the nice lady, holding his arm out
towards Harry, grabbing onto one of his hands.
He was being quite forward with all of this, almost all of his doubts and fears
were gone at the moment. He just hoped they wouldn't come back, but he hoped
even more that those fears would not become a reality.
No.
They wouldn't.
Harry's been doing so well and there was nothing to be afraid of, right?
Harry looked at Louis' arm, smiling really widely, it took him just a few
seconds to take it. Nearly letting out a giggle of excitement and happiness.
God, he was so so happy, nothing could ruin his vibe right now.
He looked back at his nurse and gave a light smile, "Thank you." He whispered,
before he was turning back to the feathery haired male. "Hi." He whispered
again, he just couldn't help it, it was too much excitement.
I don't think there's anything to be worried about, but there's always the
possibility. There's always a chance Harry might snap back to how he was ; that
he might refuse to drink the medicine and he goes back having the thoughts he
used to have.
Louis giggled at Harry and gripped his hand and started to lead him towards the
door.
"I'm guessing you're excited, yeah?" He said, his face totally beaming.
He didn't exactly know how to feel right now. Yes, he was excited. Of course he
was excited but he was also, though he'd never admit it, terrified.
He knew that somebody like Harry would never be totally healthy in his head so
he could have some major behavior problems throughout the time they live
together.
He took Harry to his car and helped him in it, getting in himself and starting
the engine.
"It's quite a long ride so I hope you're comfortable." He stated, putting the
car in drive and pulling out of the institute's parking lot.
Harry nodded his head, gripping Louis' hand right back, though it was not hard
enough to hurt him. "I am excited." He admitted.
He followed Louis through the parking lot without saying another word, his eyes
just scanning his surroundings, everything was so different.
He carefully stepped inside the car, immediately turning his head towards
Louis. He let out a small breath, before buckling himself and leaning his back
on the seat. "I am." He simply said as his green eyes turned to the window and
watched as the institute he had lived in for so many years started to become
smaller and smaller, until it was no longer visible.
Harry was smiling, his eyes now turning to the road as Louis drove. "Are you
happy?" He suddenly asked, still looking outside.
The smile on Louis' face didn't fade even a little bit.
His fingers were tapping vigorously on the steering wheel as he kept his eyes
focused on the road.
He felt like he was a bit too excited about what was happening right now.
"Very happy," he answered anyway, turning on his turning signal as he waited in
the correct lane.
He didn't even bother to turn on the radio.
He was kind of enjoying the silence that took over his vehicle but, only
because he had Harry sitting right next to him.
"I made up the guest room for you but I still need to get a mattress. You'll
have to sleep on the couch. Just for tonight, though, okay?"
Harry nodded his head in agreement, eyes still focused on his surroundings. He
couldn't really recognize any building or street, not that he was actually
trying, but still. "I'm happy, too. Very."
Even if Louis had turned the radio on, Harry would've asked him to turn it off,
he liked silence better than just crazy music.
I mean he /does/ like music, but I'm not so sure if he'd like the one now, he's
expecting the one he used to listen to when he was sixteen or younger; the one
he listened to before getting into the institution.
And for a moment his head finally turned towards Louis, eyes scanning up and
down his features, before speaking. "The couch?" He asked, licking his lips,
and then shrugging. "Alright." He said with no further comment, looking back
out the window.
In what felt like no time, Louis was finally turning down his street.
He could see his apartment building getting nearer and nearer, looking quickly
over at Harry to, well, just /look/ at him.
He pulled into his designated parking spot, putting the car in park and taking
the key from the ignition.
"This is my place," he stated, smiling a close-mouthed smile and unbuckling his
seatbelt.
"C'mon, I'm sick of being in this car," he added, unlocking the doors and
slipping out of the vehicle.
He walked over to Harry's side and opened the door for him.
Harry gulped and unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out of the car as soon as
Louis opened the door for him, "Thank you." He whispered, barely audible.
His hands sunk deep into the pockets of his jeans as he looked around, "Where
to?" He finally asked as his eyes landed back on the petite male.
A light smile rested on his features. He felt happy, he really did. He was
happy to be out of that institution after so many years, but mostly, he's happy
that he is with Louis.
Okay, maybe they didn't meet under the best circumstances, but Harry's glad
they met, because otherwise he'd not be like he is now, he wouldn't feel like
he feels now, and he would still be trapped in that place.
Louis reached for Harry's hand and made a loose yet secure grip on it, leading
him to the door of the apartment building.
He took his to the elevator and pressed floor 4 on the inside, watching as the
door closed and the elevator started to ascend.
"Twelve D," he answered, the doors opening only a few short seconds later.
He walked out, his hand still firm on Harry's, taking him down the hall and to
his apartment room.
He unlocked it with his key, pushing the door open and revealing his newly
cleaned home.
"Not much but it's mine," he chimed.
Harry looked down at their hands for a brief moment, smiling widely for himself
just at the sight.
He wasn't sure what it was, but he liked it. He liked how it felt, and that it
was Louis' hand and no one else's. It had a special meaning to him, even if it
was just a way to guide him through the building.
He watched as the doors closed, "Twelve D." He repeated, biting his lip gently.
Harry didn't seem able to keep his eyes away from Louis, he just kept looking
him up and down, taking metaphorical pictures of him with his eyes.
Harry followed close behind him, intertwining their fingers together, before
stopping in front of the door. "It's just fine, Louis." He said as his eyes
scanned the apartment from where he was standing. It was just enough for Harry,
better than the room in the institution, that's for sure.
Louis smiled and gave Harry's hand one tight squeeze before he let go of it,
shutting the door behind them and looking around the apartment himself. It was
probably one of the only times that place had been /this/ clean before and he
knew not to get used to it.
It wouldn't stay that way for long.
"This is /your/ home now, okay? I don't want you to feel awkward or
uncomfortable." He explained though, it seemed that Harry wouldn't be
uncomfortable here anyway. He motioned for Harry to follow him through the
living room which was connected to the kitchen, showing him where he would be
sleeping just for tonight.
"Our home." He whispered, nibbling on his lower lip gently. He still couldn't
possibly believe this was happening. He couldn't believe he was going to live
with Louis from now on, all of this was just... Incredible.
Something he thought would only exist in dreams.
"Mhm." He hummed as he followed Louis through the living room. His eyes scanned
the couch he was supposed to sleep in tonight. He wondered if he would actually
fit in it or if he would have to curl up in fetal position.
He shook his thoughts away as he looked at the kitchen, and then at the hall
that he supposed conducted to the rooms. "Do you have anything special planned
for today?" He asked.
Louis slightly stuck his bottom lip out, shrugging his shoulder and shaking his
head.
"Nothing really," he answered, taking a seat on the couch and kicking his shoes
off and pulling them up to sit cross legged.
"Just hang out and watch movies? Maybe order some food? Sound good?" He
suggested.
He wanted Harry, for his first night here at least, to have a nice and calm
night.
"We need to go shopping tomorrow for your mattress and a maybe some clothes for
you. I think mine would be a little too small for you," he joked, adding a
small, heartfelt chuckle.
He parted the spot next to him on the cushion, signaling for Harry to have a
seat with him.
Harry hummed in thought, which wasn't exactly needed, because he knew the
answer already. He was just playing around, because.. Well, he's Harry.
Taking his lower lip in between his teeth, he nodded, "That sounds lovely." He
agreed, "I'm okay with doing that."
He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips, "I would look pretty funny
with your clothes on. Wouldn't I?" He said, shaking his head a little. He was
clearly amused.
He hesitated a little, but eventually he sat next to louis, hands resting over
his lap.
Louis chuckled along with Harry for a brief moment, nodding his head.
He didn't think about it as he leaned to his side, resting his head on top of
Harry's shoulder.
He grabbed the tv remote and switched the screen on, immediately going to the
movie channels and slowly scrolling through.
"Anything you wanna watch in particular?" He questioned, pulling his knees to
his chest.
He was comfortable around Harry for reasons that weren't even clear to Louis
himself. He just /was/.
He had butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach, his whole body just
feeling excited along with his mind.
Harry looked down at Louis as he leaned in and rested his head on his shoulder.
He stared for a little bit, before his eyes landed on the television.
He wasn't sure why his heart beat had raised, he wasn't sure why his fingertips
felt funny or why he was smiling like a complete idiot, but he liked it. He
liked feeling this way towards a person.
The curly haired male gulped, shaking his head. "No. Anything you want is fine
by me." He said, "Though, I must tell you... I love scary movies." Probably not
something you should say, with the past you have.
"But whatever you choose will do." He hurried to say, fingers fiddling with the
hem of his shirt , before letting go.
Louis giggled and moved a few pieces of stray hair from blocking his eyes.
He just randomly chose The Purge, one of the many scary movies that were
currently playing.
"Of course you do," he teased, chewing on his inner cheek as his eyes stayed
trained to the tv screen.
Just after the opening credits finished and the actual movie started, he
cleared his throat and looked up at Harry.
"Everything okay?" He asked curiously, noticing the older boy's strange
behavior: being quiet and fidgety.
Harry's eyes were plastered to the TV, it had been quite a while since he had
last watched a scary movie, so you could actually tell he was rather excited.
At the sound of Louis' voice he looked down, raising both of his brows, before
nodding. "Yeah, everything is okay." He said. "I guess I just haven't actually
processed all of this. You know... Being out of there and here with you." He
explained, before he licked his lip and looked back at the movie.
He played with his fingers some more, but just because he wasn't sure of what
he should do with them. He wanted to wrap his arms around Louis, but he wasn't
sure if it was the right thing to do, and he obviously wasn't going to ask
either.
Louis just nodded in understanding.
He didn't expect Harry to get used to all of this in one day.
He watched the tv screen, never moving away from Harry in the meantime.
He knew Harry was happy to be here. He'd said so himself and that's all that
Louis needed to know to be happy himself.
When the movie was about halfway in, Louis was starting to get a bit
frightened.
He always was sensitive to scary movies so he didn't even notice what he was
doing when he cuddled even closer into Harry's side, his hands finding their
way to Harry's bicep and holding securely onto it.
He didn't think Harry was scared at all, like, that wouldn't make any sense
considering he had made a scary movie reality for many people.
No, Harry was not scared at all, in fact, he was trying his best to erase the
small smile that curled up in his features, but that was just, because he found
it funny how the characters didn't expect things that were totally predictable.
Like when the boyfriend of the chick tried to kill her father, how couldn't she
expect it?
A frown soon replaced his smile as he felt a small body move closer to his
body, he looked down, realizing it was just Louis.
"Are you scared?" He whispered, but he was just teasing, it was obvious that
Louis was scared.
Harry slowly moved his hand from his lap and wrapped it around Louis' back,
pulling him closer to his body. He gave a light squeeze to one of his limbs to
reassure him everything was okay.
Louis loved the feeling of Harry cuddling him.
He didn't feel like he was pushing this, being too close to the older boy too
soon.
He nodded his head, averting his eyes from the horror movie and focusing his
attention on the boring, bland coffee table, just not wanting to look at the
screen.
"Yeah, c-can we just turn it off?" He asked, already reaching for the remote.
He turned the tv off anyway, not waiting for an answer from Harry before he did
so.
He was a pussy, that much was obvious, but Harry had better get used to Louis
being scared and or paranoid about many, most small, things.
Harry opened his mouth to protest about turning the movie off, but as soon as
the first word was coming out, the TV had gone black.
He pursed his lips together, staring at the dark screen, somehow expecting it
to turn back on with his eyes, but of course nothing happened.
He let out a long, heavy sigh, looking away from the screen and to his lap,
"Well... You turned it off already, so sure." He said, biting on his lesser
lip.
His grip around Louis had loosed, his arm barely even touching him like before,
but it was still there.
"We should.. Like probably have something to eat." He told him. "I'm hungry and
I have to er... Take my medicine." He said, as he slowly started to remove his
arm from the scared male.
Louis frowned a bit when he didn't feel as much of Harry's arm against his
side. He pushed himself up and looked at Harry, clearing his throat and pulling
away from the elder's side.
"Yeah, sure. What do you want?" Louis asked, not bothering to say anything
about Harry medication.
He knew, or at least /hoped/, that he would be responsible enough to take his
medicine every day.
He didn't want to baby him.
Louis stood up from the couch and stretched his limbs from being folded up into
a tight position.
Harry stared up at Louis, giving yet another shrug of shoulders. "I don't
know." He admitted. It was not normal for him to choose from all the food,
usually they would give him options and he would choose from there.
"What is there to eat?" He questioned, sitting correctly on the couch. He wants
options.
Harry looked down at his hands, before looking back up at Louis. "I'm sorry if
I made you upset." He's actually worried about that. "It was not my intention.
I shouldn't have suggested a horror movie, and I wouldn't have done it if I
knew it'd make you react this way." His voice is quiet and hesitant about his
words.
Louis chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not upset, Harry. Really. I'm not." He
assured, leaning down to grab Harry's hand and pull him up from the couch.
"I guess I'm just a baby." He joked, leading Harry into the kitchen and letting
go of his hand once they got there. "Just have a look and pick whatever you
want. Doesn't matter." He said, taking it upon himself to go to the cupboard
above the sink and get out a box of pasta.
That's when something started to come back to him.
The last time he cooked for Harry, Harry turned completely insane.
But he was better now.
Right?
Like, there wouldn't be any huge problems?
Louis started to feel anxious but he made sure not to show that emotion on his
outside.
Harry took Louis' small hand with his larger one, standing up from the couch.
"You're not a baby." He stated shaking his head a little.
He remained quiet for a few seconds, biting on his lesser lip to keep in an
upcoming laugh, "You just look like one." He joked, shooting Louis a dimpled
smile. "I'm kidding." He hurried to add.
"Whatever you decide we have it's gonna be great." He assured, and that's just
his way of shrugging out of decisions.
Harry was definitely better, there would be no problems tonight.
He followed Louis to the kitchen, his eyes plastered to their hands. He
wondered why Louis kept grabbing his hand, not that he minded. /no/. He was
just curious.
Louis pretended to pout and he stuck his bottom lip out over his top one,
staring at Harry with the box of pasta in his hand.
"I don't look like a baby," he played along, going in the cabinets underneath
the microwave to get a pot to boil the noodle in.
"I'll just make some spaghetti," he said, filling the pot halfway up with water
and placing it on the stove.
"Did you wanna help?" He asked suggestively, getting the jar of tomato paste
from the pantry and opening it with the can opener.
"You just act like one, then." Harry teased as he sat on one of the chairs that
were in the kitchen.
His eyes roamed around, trying his best to localize everything in there,
"Spaghetti sounds delicious." He commented as he tapped his fingers against the
wood of the table.
"Help?" He asked looking at Louis with raised brows. It wasn't that he didn't
want to help, he was just a little taken a back seeing as he was being asked
for help. It wasn't common.
"I-I don't know how." He admitted, "I haven't cooked in ages, I'll probably end
up burning myself or something." He shook his head. It was true, he hadn't
cooked ever since he was admitted in the institution, hence why he asked Louis
to cook for him the morning after everything had happened.
Within five minutes Harry was already standing up from his seat and walking
towards the sink, where he rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands. "What do
I do?" He said as he dried them.
Louis just chuckled and took another pot out of the cabinet and put it on the
stove next to the other one.
The water was almost to the boiling point so Louis poured the noodles in and
let them cook.
He then put the jar of tomato sauce into the other pot, turning the heat on low
and getting a large plastic spoon from the drawer.
He was a bit hesitant to what he was actually going to let Harry do since it
could turn into a relatively dangerous situation. He took a large knife and a
washed tomato, handing them to Harry and taking out the cutting board. "Dice
these up into small squares," he instructed.
Harry watched Louis' actions carefully, following his every movement intently
until the feathery haired male was turning towards him and handing him a tomato
and a rather big knife.
He hesitantly took them and looked at Louis, raising his brows in a questioning
way, though his expression died soon as he walked towards the cutting board,
"How small?" He questioned with a grin. "Small small or not so small?"
The curly haired male moisturized his lower lip, his hand firmly holding the
red tomato as he sliced it into two.
His emerald orbs were fixed on the sharp, shiny metal, nothing distracting him
from what he was meant to do.
Louis stirred the tomato sauce slowly and then he turned the heat up on the
noodles.
He turned around and looked at Harry, creating a small gap between his thumb
and index finger to show thickness. "Just bite size, really," he answered,
putting a glass pot cover over the sauce so would just warm up but not too
quickly.
"And," he started, wanting to warn Harry since it was obvious that he hadn't
used a sharp knife in quite a long time, "watch your fingers. That's a new
knife. Very sharp."
He got two plates out of the cupboard and some forks from the drawer, making
sure to keep an eye on Harry out of the corner of his eye.
Harry continued to cut the tomato, smaller squares appearing with each movement
of his wrist, "Chill out, it's not like I'm planning to cut my own fingers,
send them to my family and ask for money so I can run off to another country
and live the life of a runaway that owns two cats." Or is he?
His laugh echoed around the room as he continued his actions, the knife hitting
against the wood gently.
He could totally feel eyes on him, probably Louis' or just his imagination, but
they were there, burning into his skin.
"Stop looking at me that way." He stated, pursing his lips together. It wasn't
long after hm the words were uttered when he finished his task, his body
turning towards Louis as held the cutting board with the tomato and the knife.
"There you go, no fingers just tomato."
Louis rolled his eyes and took the cutting board from Harry, lifting the lid
off of the tomato sauce and pouring them all in.
"You know that's not what I meant," he said, a small hint of sarcasm in his
voice.
He shook his head, turning the head off of both pots and stirring the tomatoes.
He drained the pasta and rinsed it off before putting it on the plates and
pouting sauce on both of them.
He set them on the table and put the forks next to them.
"What do you want to drink?" He asked, opening the fridge and looking for
something himself.
Harry wiped his hands on his pants, looking at Louis carefully, before finally
sitting in one of the chairs, a plate resting before him.
He looked at it, almost feeling his mouth water, "I don't mind." He said with a
shrug, looking up at the younger boy once again. "-Tea will do just fine." He
hurried to add, before Louis could do anything.
He wondered if the knife thing was just something Louis had done to test him,
to see what he would do if he was left alone with a big, sharp knife.
He wondered if Louis was still afraid of him, if he would always feel that way
towards him.
He couldn't help his thoughts, they bothered him and a lot.
Louis nodded and walked over to his already heated kettle, taking a tea cup and
filling it with the hot water. He dropped a tea bag in it and watched as the
color changed, placing it next to Harry and just grabbing a bottle of water to
for himself.
He sat down, picked up his fork and twirled the spaghetti on it, just thinking
really.
He was thinking about what he had actually gotten himself into. I mean, he was
paranoid that Harry was cutting a tomato with a sharp object.
How could he just leave alone the fact that he was sleeping in his house.
He could do something to him at anytime and it would be all Louis' fault for
letting him be here.
He started to eat, looking up at Harry and smiling.
"How's it?" He asked, faking a small smile.
He was scared.
He wouldn't admit that though.
Harry bit on his lip as he continued to wonder, his thoughts full of questions
without answers and some with suppositions.
Did Louis hate him?
No, he couldn't. He had him living here.
Was Louis worried about his presence here?
Was Harry a monster to him?
No.
There was a huge frown in his features, his big hands took the fork and slowly
rolled a string of spaghetti around it.
He took it to his mouth and he started to chew. It was good, genuinely good.
"I'm sorry, what?" He was lost deep in thought that he didn't really listened
to Louis' words.
He didn't bother to return the smile, he remained with frown.
Smiling would be a lie, it would be fooling, and that was bad, according to his
therapist it was something he wasn't supposed to do if he wanted to get better.
But sometimes he just couldn't help himself, sometimes it was /needed/.
Louis raised one of his eyebrows.
Harry had never really spaced out on him before.
He repeated his question with a bit more suspicion in his voice, "uh, I said
how is it?"
He wanted to ask what was wrong.
He really did but the older boy had already snapped on him for that before and
he hated when Harry was upset with him even if he was asking about his well
being.
Louis sipped slowly on his water, his eyes staying on Harry who, in Louis'
opinion, looked particularly depressed and deep in some sort of thought.
He wouldn't ask him.
He didn't need a lecture. At least not again.
Harry pursed his plump lips together as he thought of the perfect words to use,
though they ended up being not as perfect as he wanted them, just simple;
common. "It's good, really good."
The words left his mouth so quickly, the room falling up again into a not so
uncomfortable silence. He wasn't bothered by it.
No.
He actually liked it, that way he was able to think properly and without
interruptions, though, I must tell you that he wouldn't mind making
conversation with the feathery haired male. He would love to, but he won't
start it, he has nothing to talk about.
He took the cup with warm tea in his hands, taking a sip from it. It was hot
and it burnt his tongue, but he did not flinch or made and facial expression
that would signal it, he just continued to sip.
Louis just nodded, the right corner of his mouth curling up into a small,
appreciative smile.
Louis wanted to know.
He didn't know why but he did. Should he ask Harry?
Would the older boy get annoyed like before?
"Can I- uh, can you like, tell me what you're thinking about?" He asked, taking
a bit of caution in his face and voice as the words left his mouth.
Louis was thinking so many different things.
Some happy, some sad, other worried and even some that he couldn't bring
himself to dwell on for too long.
But Harry's thoughts are the ones he was most concerned about.
Harry raised his brows towards Louis' direction, still holding the teacup by
his mouth, his pink lips gently pressed against the rim.
His green eyes traveled from the pretty boy to the plate with pasta,
cautiously, he put the teacup back down on the table, his fingers going to grab
the fork yet again.
He still hadn't answered the question.
He introduced the portion of food into his mouth, chewing particularly slowly
as he thought of an answer.
As he considered actually telling him. He won't.
He won't tell him, not exactly.
"Why do you want to know what I'm thinking about?" He asked after swallowing
the pasta, voice deep but calmed.
He stared for a few second, before his lips parted again to allow words to come
out, "I'm thinking about you."
What else, Harry?
"Only you."
Louis smiled.
That's really all he wanted to hear. He was the same exact way.
He wasn't exactly sure in what way Harry was thinking about him, but Louis was
thinking about Harry in every way possible.
He was scared, anxious, nervous but also unexplainably happy and just utterly
ecstatic to have Harry finally living with him.
"I was just wondering..." Louis assured, twirling and moving his noodles around
just to occupy himself, "I'm thinking about you, too." He added, though he
wasn't asked about his thoughts. He just felt like sharing since it would be
important to do those sorts of things with your 'roommate'.
Louis, writhing a few moments finished the rest of his water bottle and most of
his spaghetti, using a napkin to wipe his mouth off.
Harry continued to tangle long pieces of the noodles in his plate around the
fork, taking them every so often to his mouth.
He was listening to Louis' words with gray attention, though, he was not utter
instant answers. He chewed rather slowly, looking up at Louis once again, his
emerald eyes licking with Louis' sapphire ones, "What were you thinking of me?"
He questioned.
The curly haired male stared for a few seconds, before looking back down at his
food and with a couple of bites more, he was finished, proceeding to take his
teacup with both hands and sipping from it.
The sweet liquid was warm now, and it was delicious as it travelled through his
mouth, this would be just perfect if it had milk.
Next time will be.
Louis shrugged his shoulders.
He was thinking so many things about the older boy but he would, couldn't say
all of them with either embarrassing himself or making Harry angry.
He couldn't tell him that he was dwelling on the possibility of Harry turning
and going psycho again. It wouldn't happen. Louis had to believe that it
wouldn't.
"Just that I'm happy you're finally here." He said, and that was true but he
kind of figured that Harry already knew about that.
He stood up from his chair and took both of their plates, scraping the scraps
into the trash bin and rinsing them in the sink.
He returned to his seat, sipping more of his water and tapping his fingers on
the thin, weak plastic of the bottle.
He didn't like the silence.
He never did and having those silences with somebody that you like and/or care
about was even worse.
Harry just observed Louis' actions, not saying another word, he had nothing
else to say, and he wasn't going to make up just a random, stupid conversation
theme, or was he?
He stood up from the chair, walking past Louis and towards the small bag that
was supposed to have his medicine.
After fidgeting with the small box for a little while, he finally poured the
necessary pills on his hands and then put the package back into the bag,
turning on his heels to the table.
He introduced the pills into his mouth and swallowed them with what was left of
his tea, after putting it in the sink, he sat back on his seat and pursed his
lips together, "Did..." He started, biting his lip in a gentle manner, before
continuing, "Did they tell you anything?" He questioned, "The people back in
the hospital, I mean." He hurried to say, his voice lower than usual.
Louis raised and eyebrow, not too high though.
What did Harry think they told him? Or what did he want him to be told?
"That depends," he answered.
He was told some things like what medications he was to be taking and what
things triggered anger and what he should do when Harry seemed irritable or
mad.
"Why?"
Was there something that Harry didn't want Louis to know? Something he was
embarrassed or worried about?
He spun and played with his, now empty, water bottle, leaning back in his
chair.
Harry stared at him, raising both of his brows in a questioning way, "Depends
on what?" He asked, voice dramatically changing from soft to firm.
Harry was referring if he was told anything about stuff he had said or done.
Stuff he had said about him, it was nothing he was embarrassed about, no, of
course not, but if he wanted Louis to know then he would tell him, not some
doctors.
There was doctor - patient confidentiality, right?
Of course, the doctor himself had told him so.
His posture returned to what it originally was, relaxed and just /calm/.
"Ah, don't worry about it, Louis." He shook his head, hands interlocked over
his lap, "Everything is completely fine." He assured, taking in a deep breath.
He did to want to talk about it anymore.
Louis nodded and just quieted his eyebrows as he looked at Harry.
"Alright," he said, though he was still pretty concerned and admittedly curious
about what Harry was referring to.
"I just want you to know that you can tell me anything, okay? I know that you
don't have a therapist to talk to now so, just talk to me, yeah?" He explained,
standing up from his chair and pushing it in.
He looked at the clock, seeing that it was nearly seven pm.
"Did you want to watch another movie or something? Maybe one that isn't
terrifying?"
Harry nodded his head slowly, "I know." He said, almost above a whisper. His
fingertips tapped in a gentle manner against the fabric of his jeans. He wasn't
so sure he would actually listen to what he suggested, it would be weird
telling his now.. Roommate his problems. Louis would only think he is weird,
just a freak.
His thoughts are meant to stay inside his head from now on, no one needs to
know them unless they trigger himself, or at least that's what he believes.
"I was actually enjoying the last one..." He said quietly, "It's one day you
can do anything that you want without getting in problems. Plus it was so
predictable, you'd know everything was coming." Taking in a deep breath, he
shrugged. "But we can watch something else, whatever you want. I don't
exactly... /know/ any movies so whatever you say we watch will be perfect." He
finalized, pushing his chair back and standing up.
Louis nodded, feeling like an idiot for being so boring and scared of a movie
that was totally, and obviously, fake.
He just felt like a pussy.
"I mean, we can finish it if you want," he said, also standing up and starting
off to the living room. He simply just plopped down onto the couch, grabbing
the remote and leaving space for Harry to sit next to him.
"Totally up to you, though" he finished, turning the television on again and
seeing that the movie was paused where they left off.
Harry followed the younger male back into the living room, hands hanging by
each side of his body, "No." He stated, shaking his head to the sides.
He sat next to Louis, turning his head towards him, "I don't want to watch it
anymore." He told him, "I want to watch something else; something that doesn't
scare you." That's good, he's thinking of other people's feelings.
His head then turned back to the front, looking at the paused movie. He
patiently waited for Louis to put something else.
Louis just shrugged and clicked the buttons on the remote, trying to find
another film to watch.
He didn't want to watch something too boring or feminine, which really were the
things that he was into, but he wouldn't let Harry know that.
He chose an older movie called 'Copy Cat', restarting the movie and leaning
back against the couch.
This wasn't necessarily scary, it was just really suspenseful and mysterious.
He hold this would be fine.
He pulled his knees up to his chest and got comfortable, taking the blanket
that hung on the back of the couch to wrap it around his body.
Harry observed as Louis changed the movie, his eyes trailing up and down his
features with great concentration.
He thought Louis was very handsome, he has always seen him like that; a pretty
boy, but now he looked more manly than he did two years ago.
His head then turned towards the screen as soon as he heard the sound coming
out of it.
He took in a deep breath, leaning back on the sofa, his hands resting over his
lap as he lifted his legs and crisscrossed them.
It wasn't long until the movie finally started, with people in a park, he
frowned. What were they watching?
He did not ask.
Louis blinked his eyes a few times as he focused on the television screen. The
movie wasn't nearly as scary as The Purge, it was actually sort of boring if
Louis was being completely honest, but it was helping to pass the time. Harry
definitely didn't seem too interested in the film. He had said himself that he
liked the scary movies and they didn't effect him. Why would they?
Louis let out a long yawn, a high pitched sound coming out just after it.
He cleared his throat and looked over at Harry, taking in a deep breath. "Let
me know when you're ready to crash." He said.
It wasn't necessarily late but it had been a long day for Louis.
He had been cleaning his house all day before he went to go pick Harry up.
Harry stared at the screen intently, his curiosity growing with each second
that passed.
His eyes scanned up and down the screen as the scene played. It wasn't even ten
minutes and there was already blood.
He wondered why Louis had picked this movie in the first place.
A small chuckle escaped from his mouth at the sound Louis made, he rubbed his
eyes gently, "I'm ready whenever you are ready." He replied, turning his head
towards him and shooting a smile.
Harry had a long day too, maybe not one particularly long, but it was a big
change, everything was too much for him.
Too much happiness and joy.
Some worries, but not much.
Louis nodded, sitting up and slowly stood
Up from the couch, stretching his arms a bit and breathing in deeply.
Harry wasn't much for thinking about himself and that was definitely strange
for Louis. Not that he minded, of course he didn't, he was glad that Harry was
calmer though, he knew it was just from the meds and probably from being
content with where he was currently staying.
"I'm probably just gonna head to bed then." He informed the older boy, "uh, how
many pillows and blankets would you like?" He asked, walking over to the closet
that was just before the hallways to the bathroom and his bedroom.
He opened the door, taking out one pillow at a time and holding it against his
hip.
Harry's head shot upwards and away from the screen as soon as he felt the
movement on the sofa and then Louis' voice echoing around, "just a pillow,
Louis." He told him, "And... Maybe two blankets, please." He told him, biting
on his lower lip.
His head was turned towards Louis' direction, though he was still sitting on
the couch, everything was a bit dark, but he could still differentiate Louis'
frame.
He was looking at him, oh so fondly. Eyes almost glimmering with the attraction
the curly haired male felt towards him, though, you couldn't so quite call it /
love/.
He quickly turned back towards the television, not wanting to be caught in the
act. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt for a little bit, before he
heard Louis feet against the floor again.
Louis walked back over to the couch with one large pillow and two blankets. One
brown and one green. They were nearly folded in Louis' arms as he set them down
on the edge of the couch.
"Do you need anything else before I head off?" He asked, leaving the tv on in
case Harry liked the noise and company. Louis let out yet another tired yawn,
his eyes squeezing shut before fluttering open again.
Louis was still, in the back of his mind, thinking about all of this. Was this
the right decision? Sure, it was benefiting Harry but was his entire life in
jeopardy? He had to have faith in Harry. They wouldn't have let him out of the
institute if he was still unstable. That much was certain.
Harry shook his head, "No, thank you." He told him as he stood up from the
couch and grabbed the pillow and blankets. He set the pillow in one end of the
couch and then unfolded the blankets, spreading them in an untidy manner.
He then looked up at Louis again, "Sweet dreams, Louis." He said, shooting him
a dimpled grin, before returning to settling himself on the couch.
He pursed his lips together, mentally checking that he had everything he
needed, before pulling the clothing on his upper body over his head, he folded
them neatly and placed them on the coffee table. Afterwards, he unbuttoned his
jeans and pulled them down, doing the same he had done with the rest of his
clothing.
He ruffled his curls a little, before getting under the blankets and settling
his eyes back on the TV.
Louis smiled and shut the closet door, looking over at Harry one last time
before he nodded his head. "Sweet dreams to you, too," he said, exiting the
living room and turning out the light switch. He walked down the hallway and to
his own bedroom, closing his door and immediately shimmying out of his jeans.
He left his sweater on, the hem of it falling to his mid thighs, so it was
fairly comfortable to sleep in.
He climbed into his bed and got under the covers, laying there with his eyes
open. He stared at the blank wall across the way from his bed until he finally
was able to drift off to sleep.
Harry continued to watch the movie, it was a bit boring itself; cops and this
traumatized lady trying to get a psychopath locked. Trying to stop him from
killing any other girl, but he couldn't seem to stop watching it, it was
boring, but not quite.
He curled a little, tucking the blankets under his naked legs, arms hiding
under the large pillow that rested under his head.
It wasn't long until he finally managed to fall asleep, it was by the end of
the movie, where the lady laughs like a maniac and the psycho gets killed.
He fell into a heavy slumber, one of his legs had moved away from the blankets
and was hanging off the couch.
Louis had his own blanket securely scrunched up and gripped in his hands. He
stayed to one side of the bed, facing towards the window where his shades were
drawn.
It was totally black, a dreamless sleep which was fairly common for Louis. He
was a light sleeper. He never slept so strongly that he was actually able to
have a dream since his mind never actually wandered off.
He shifted in his slumber, his hair falling onto his forehead, his knees
bending and his body curling into a warm ball.
Harry shouldn't have watched that movie, or the other one. They were bad for
his mind, they made him go into another reality and screw up his progress.
And that's exactly what was happening right now; he was having a bad dream, a
hell of a nightmare.
The thing he most feared by moving in with Louis; hurting him.
His curls were plastered to his forehead with slight sweat, his hands turned
into tight fists, nails digging into his skin as he squirmed just a tiny bit on
the couch.
He had mixed the last movie with reality, instead of the lady being hung over
the toilet, it was Louis who was being hung by him; Harry. Instead of the cop,
it was his therapist.
After a few minutes into the dream the boy woke up with a gasp, a muffled
whimper escaping his mouth as one of his hands rushed to his head.
'It was just a dream, just a nightmare' he kept telling himself as his chest
moved up and down heavily.
Louis' eyes involuntarily fluttered open, his hand immediately reaching out to
his bedside table to check the time on his cell phone. It was only a few
minutes past 2am, a yawn emitting from his body. He sat up in his bed, burying
his face in his hands and wiping his eyes.
He was didn't stay awake for long. He didn't even bother checking on Harry,
like, he wasn't a ten year old.
He had laid back down and just looked blankly at the ceiling before his eyes
drooped and he started to fall asleep again.
Harry tried to calm himself, not wanting to cause a drama out of this. He
didn't want to wake Louis up and make him think it would be like this every
night. He didn't want to be a bother.
His hands were shaky and his whole body was sweaty. He was nervous and just
afraid, afraid of the possibility there was about him ever hurting Louis again.
As he could, he stood up from the couch, leaving the blankets behind. He
followed the hall he had seen Louis go through and slowly and rather silently
he opened the door.
He didn't want to wake up Louis, but he /had/ to.
"L-Louis?" He muttered, a bit shakily. He closed the door behind him,
approaching to the bed, his palm pressing gently against the younger boy's
back.
Louis was easily woken up by the large hand on his back, feeling the warmth of
it through his sweater.
He let out a short small groan, rolling over to see Harry.
It was sort of a familiar situation really. He's been in a dark room before and
Harry woke him up. For what this time? Louis had no idea. He sat up, his
eyebrow raised in confusion. "Harry? What's the matter?" He asked.
This is definitely the last thing he had thought would happen.
Harry bit on his lesser lip, pulling his hand back from Louis' body, "I... I
had a nightmare, and I can't go back to sleep." He said, before gulping and
playing with his hands a little bit. "I-I can't stop thinking about it." He
explained, looking down at his hands.
He probably sounded like such a pansy.
He's a grown up man; an adult. He shouldn't be acting like this, the dream
shouldn't have made him feel that way, but then again here he is all scared and
shaky, because of a nightmare.
"I don't know what to do, and I really didn't want to wake y-you up, but it was
my last resort..." And now he's just rambling around with his words.
Louis couldn't help but feel bad for Harry. Even if he was being kind of
childish, Louis knew it wasn't his fault. He couldn't help it.
"What was your dream about?" He asked, reaching over and turning on the lamp
that was on his bedside table.
He looked back up at Harry and noticed how scared he actually looked.
It was so strange to see somebody like Harry so shaken up from something that
wasn't even real.
He wasn't mad at all that Harry had woken him up, he was actually relieved that
Harry didn't do anything stupid.
It all felt so real to Harry, it all scared him a lot. Just like the voices in
his head that weren't real and they affected him so much, just like he thought
those were genuinely real, happened with the dreams. He thought those were
real, too. In a way at least.
He thought maybe that was the new way he would be bothered, and it just scared
him a lot, because he thought he was free of the voice; of the constant
thoughts of killing and hurting.
He thought he would never be like that again, and thinking that it could happen
again just terrified him, he didn't want to hurt Louis.
That was basically it, the possibility of hurting Louis scared him.
The curly haired male shook his head, "I don't want to talk about it." He said.
He didn't want to scare Louis, too "I probably sound so stupid, god." He
sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry."
"Oh no no no," Louis started, shaking his head. "You don't sound stupid at all.
It's fine," he assured, pushing the blanket from his body and climbing out of
his bed.
"You're sure you don't want to tell me about it? It might make you feel
better." He suggested, walking around his bed to get next to Harry. He looked
up at the taller boy, genuine concern present in his blue eyes.
He didn't want Harry to be upset or frightened about anything. He should be
doing better and he should be happy.
Harry bit on his lower lip a bit, too harshly, shaking his head to the sides,
"I don't want you to look at me differently, Louis." He explained in a low tone
of voice.
"What if I tell you and you get scared and want me to leave and it happens all
over again?" He mumbled, moving the curls away from his forehead.
"I'm fine, I just don't want to sleep alone." Or is it that you don't want to
sleep without knowing whether Louis is fine or not?
Louis nodded. He wasn't going to force Harry to talk if he really didn't want
to.
"Okay, okay. You're fine. You don't have to talk," he said, putting his hand on
Harry's shoulder and gently soothing him.
Should he offer?
I mean, it's sort of forward but even Harry said he didn't want to sleep by
himself.
"Do you, uh, wanna maybe... Sleep in here? With me?" He asked, shrugging his
shoulders.
This wasn't a big deal. And Louis wouldn't make it one.
Did Harry really want to sleep with Louis?
Yes.
He was dying to, but should he accept? Not just because he wants to, it means
it's a good decision...
He looked down at his body, before looking back at Louis' beautiful blue eyes,
"Yes.." He said, nodding his head up and down.
He didn't want to sleep alone, true, but he also just wanted to sleep with
Louis, because he desired it, more than anything.
This was wrong, so so wrong. Mainly, because of what they were wearing, but it
still was wrong.
It was like a déjà vu, Louis with nothing but his comfy sweater and boxer
briefs, and Harry completely naked, apart from his boxers, of course, and they
were going to sleep in the same bed again.
Louis looked at Harry, not feeling ashamed as his eyes travelled down Harry's
shirtless torso. The deep scars that were there were a bit lighter and more
healed than he remembered, and it made him smile. It didn't seem as though
Harry's been harming himself lately.
"C'mon then. Make yourself comfortable," Louis said, crawling back onto the bed
and sliding underneath the covers again.
He ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face for the most part.
Was it a bit too far to be under the same blanket? Louis honest didn't care. He
was a little too tired to go and get another one and Harry didn't seem to be in
any state to be by himself.
Harry approached to the bed and got under the covers as well, immediately
feeling the warmth Louis had spread upon them.
He rested his head on the puffy pillow and looked at Louis, seeing as the lamp
was still turned on, he could definitely observe his features in a better way.
He rubbed one of his slightly, his curls still plastered to his forehead a
little. Without even noticing, without even being aware of his actions, his
hand had reached out for Louis' face. His soft fingertips running asking his
cheek bones and down his jawline.
Darting his tongue out to moisturize his lips, he continued his actions,
brushing his tongue against his bottom lip and finally his hand landing on his
neck, he formed caressed small circles against the skin, before pulling his
hand back, "Good night." He whispered, looking into his blue eyes.
Louis couldn't help but smile at Harry, his face growing warm and his body
shivering just a bit. He liked when Harry showed affection towards him;
touching him as gently as he can.
He liked that Harry was sweet with him though Louis was the only one he cared
enough about to be like that with, right?
"Good night, Harry," he muttered, turning the lamp off once again and keeping
his position facing towards Harry, he pulled the blankets up onto his body,
taking in a deep breath. He didn't close his eyes, he lust lay there and let
his eyes trace over the outline of Harry's body.
He reached his hand out and put it over Harry's, just wanting to make sure that
Harry wasn't scared anymore. "Good dreams this time."
Harry took in a deep breath, closing his eyes, before feeling a small hand rest
over his own. He did not open his eyes though, he just moved closer to the
younger male and intertwined their fingers together.
He leaned in a little bit and pressed his plump, pink lips against Louis'
knuckles, he remained with his lips pressed like that as he tried his best to
fall asleep again, though he was so sure he would be able to, with Louis so
close to him, he would be too distracted to fall into such slumber.
Harry wasn't so scared anymore, Louis was safe, no one would hurt him, he would
not allow that to happen. Though, he had no plans of how to protect Louis of
himself, what if he tried to hurt Louis?
No, he wouldn't. There's no reason for him to.
Louis didn't exactly know how to react when he felt Harry's mouth on his hand.
Though, if he did react, it would definitely be a good reaction. Maybe a giggle
or a wide smile but none of that happened. Instead, he leaned in himself,
resting his chin of both of their hands, their faces right next to each other.
"Comfy?" Louis asked, shutting his eyes and feeling a small smiled curl onto
the corners of his lips. He moved his leg, his foot gently brushing against
Harry's.
Harry nodded his head slowly, "Very.." He whispered as he continued to press
soft kisses up and down his tan skin.
The curly haired male's and Louis' warm breath crashed against one another,
seeing as their faces were right in front of each other.
He liked the feeling of Louis' foot brushing against his own, it made him
happy; it made him feel slightly better. It also tickled him, which made a soft
giggle escape his mouth.
"You're tickling me.." He whispered with a small smile on his features. Their
fingers remained intertwined as he scooted a little bit closer to him, their
hips almost touching each other.
Louis giggled, making sure to keep his foot moving against Harry's. "Sorry," he
said quietly, moving his foot up and down Harry's leg now.
He pulled his hand away from Harry's, instead putting it on the older boy's
neck and toying with the curls on the lower part of Harry's head. "And you're
feeling better, too, yeah?" Louis just assumed, seeing as Harry was trembling
or sweating anymore.
Louis felt butterflies in his stomach, and not the nervous kind.
These were definitely the good kind.
"Don't apologize." Harry shook his head gently, biting on his lower lip to keep
himself from making any noise at the feeling Louis was now provoking on his
leg.
Harry nodded his head a little, "Yeah, /you/ make me feel better." He told him
voice a bit silent.
He slid his free hand down one of Louis' sides and then started to caress the
skin under his warm sweater.
Louis was so soft, his skin was almost like cotton itself, but not quite. He
loved it, it was so perfect and so was Louis.
Harry felt so happy at the moment, he had wanted this to happen for quite a
while, and it was finally happening. He just hoped he wouldn't ruin the moment
with stupidity.
Louis shivered as goosebumps formed underneath Harry's gentle touch. He let out
an uneven breath, his side arching into Harry's hand.
It had been so long since he'd been touched by anybody like this; so gently and
sweetly, the only other person that had done it was Louis' boyfriend, Liam,
whose relationship only lasted for a month or two. That was over a year and a
half ago, though.
His eyes slowly hooded, looking as if they were closed but he could still see
through a small crease.
"Harry," he spoke, his leg almost completely through over Harry's body, "kiss
me. Please, kiss me."
Harry continued to caress up and down Louis' back, his hand going further
inside his sweater, he was so warm.
He sucked in a deep breath as soon as he heard the younger's next words.
He leaned in, his pink lips pressing against his ear gently, "You are still so
needy..." He whispered, taking his earlobe in between his lips, he sucked a
little, before pulling back and pressing a trail of kisses down his jawline.
He soon met with Louis' thin lips, merely brushing them together, before
finally kissing him properly.
His eyes fluttered shut as he moved his mouth in a slow and gentle manner
against Louis', he was dying to do this for so long.
It was just as he remembered, if not, even better.
Louis was so relieved when Harry finally kissed him. He /was/ needy. He didn't
know why, he just /was/.
His mouth moved against Harry's as if they were in sync, Louis' hand curling to
perfectly cup Harry's neck in it.
His eyes were completely closed now, just letting his body relax and enjoy the
feeling of Harry's mouth, the thin he'd craved for months though he knew it was
so wrong and inappropriate.
He pushed their bodies together, not even thinking as he did it.
Why was he so comfortable with Harry? Why was he so fond of him? Why wasn't he
disgusted by him? Well, how /could/ he be? The older boy was amazing even if
society thought other wise.
Harry deepened the kiss a little, letting out a soft breath as Louis pushed
their bodies together, he could feel the growing bulge that rested in between
their bodies, but he said nothing about it.
He was aware this was so wrong, that they shouldn't be doing this; all of this
was a mistake, but he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, because probably
he wasn't going to be able to do so another day.
Maybe Louis would chicken out and not want Harry this close, if so, then Harry
would never be able to taste those lovely lips, he adored , oh so dearly.
His hand slowly slid down his back and cupped his full bum, giving a gentle,
yet firm squeeze to one of his cheeks.
Louis couldn't help the moan that emitted from his lips, being muffled by
Harry's mouth as they stayed connected.
Finally, he was finally being touched on, or close enough to, the place he's
been needing to be touched for so long. He detached their lips only briefly to
lift himself up and sit on top of Harry, the older boy's hands remaining on his
backside. He rolled his hips painfully slow, being gentle since he wanted this
to last.
He placed his hands on either side of Harry's head, dipping down again to kiss
him.
He could feel Harry's dick through the thing fabric of their boxers, causing
him to push down harder against it.
Harry couldn't keep the noises from erupting out of his mouth. Soft and rather
low moans sliding past his lips and crashing against Louis' with each roll of
his hips Louis gave.
It felt just /exquisite/, and Harry absolutely loved it with all he got.
His hands cupped Louis' bum just perfectly, almost as if they were made for
each other; like puzzle pieces. He gave gentle squeezes to it, pushing him down
against his forming erection every so often, harder each time.
His own actions just made him wish for more; they made him want to push Louis'
boxers away and make him ride his cock for a long while, even after orgasming.
Afterwards he wanted to turn Louis on his hands and knees and just fuck him
again, this time into oblivion. He wanted to pull at his hair and just make him
collapse, but of course, he couldn't think that way.
They couldn't do said things, because it was wrong, right?
Louis pulled away and kept the motion of his hips continuous, instead his body
sitting straight up on too of Harry's. He ground down hard against Harry's
crotch, his back arching as his own cock was being rubbed up against and
starting to grow hard.
He let his eyes fall shut, feeling as if he absolutely needed Harry right now.
Not so much that he wanted him, which he definitely did, but pure /need/.
"Harry," he breathed out, the feeling of Harry's hardening dick making him
almost start to beg. He wouldn't do that, though. At least not yet. Not unless
he absolutely needed to.
"Harry, should we stop?" He asked, not wanting to do anything with him that
would make things awkward or bad. But he hoped Harry didn't care.
A low whine left his lips as Louis pulled away from his mouth, though the
grinding made up for it, so he didn't make much of a big deal about it.
Harry shook his head a little to the sides, "No." He stated, biting on his
lower lip in a gentle manner, "--Unless you want to stop, if so; we stop." He
hurried to say, his hands kept squeezing his bum cheeks, his fingertips soon
starting to fiddle with the waist band, though he did not attempt anything.
It was funny, how the first time they had sexual relations Harry basically
'forced' him into it, and now he's actually caring about his opinion; he wants
to know if it's okay they do it, but at the same time he doesn't want to hear
it, because he's afraid of the answer being no.
He wants this so bad, even if he can't do the things he wants, the things he
desires. He's okay with just /feeling/ Louis' touch; to feel him against his
skin.
He isn't even thinking of what will happen tomorrow, how they will look at each
other, if it'll be awkward or not. ; if it'll affect their relation ship, if
they even have one.
What are they? Friends? Enemies? Roommates? Acquaintances? More?
He doesn't know, and he doesn't care at the moment.
Louis just nodded, the pace of his hips now going painfully slow, even for him
if he was being honest. "I want to," he assured, his eyes fluttering open.
"I just, I haven't been with anyone for a long time." He added, feeling as if
he had kind of ruined the moment. He wanted to be honest with Harry, though.
He haulted his motions, putting his hands flat on Harry's chest and biting on
his lower lip.
He knew he should've said no. He knows that, but he didn't /want/ to. Which is
totally different from the first time they've been in this sort of situation.
Harry's eyes opened and he looked at Louis straight in the eye. The color in
his eyes looked olive and not so green like it usually was, but it was all
because of the lust; the desire he was feeling in those moments.
"And do you think /I/ have?" He questioned, even if it was kind of stupid,
because it was obvious that he had not been with anyone inside the institution,
well, unless his hand counts.
"You're going to be my first in two years, and before that it was, oh it was
you too." And it was more than obvious that before the incident it was his hand
again, and before it was... Several people.
Another moan left his mouth as Louis continued to grind against his erection,
"I-I don't care who you've been with." Lies, he does care, well kind of. Just
don't tell him the whole story, don't say names, or any information at all,
because he's the jealous kind of person.
He'll want to get rid of the person, literally, even if he's supposed to be
'sane' again.
Arching his back just a tiny bit, he let out a breath, starting to tug Louis'
boxer briefs down.
Louis couldn't help but smile at Harry. For some reason he felt like it was
different. Like, going a while without sex. Yes, Harry was locked up but it was
just /different/. Harry took Louis' virginity and Louis' only had sex once
since then.
He looked down at Harry's hand, rolling off of the older boy to lay on his back
and slowly slide out of his boxers. He then peeled off his sweater, tossing
both articles of clothing to the floor.
He wasn't embarrassed to be naked in front of anyone anymore; he had no reason
to be. He looked at Harry, just a small hint of doubt in his expression. He
wanted this, he /really/ did, but he couldn't help feeling a bit nervous and
hesitant about this. Who wouldn't be?
Harry could snap at any moment, but Louis knew he had to have faith in him.
Harry whined once again as the friction of Louis grinding against his crotch
was lost. His hand immediately reaching to touch himself. He just couldn't help
it, he /needed/ to feel something.
He softly palmed his cock over the fabric of his boxers, giving light squeezes
every so often as he looked at the feathery haired male.
He soon stopped his hand movements, scanning up and down Louis' naked body, all
sprawled out for him. He felt delighted with what he had in sight.
He crawled over his smaller body.
What he had before him was way better than just his hand and mind.
He leaned in, lips brushing against his earlobe, "I liked your sweater.." He
whispered, running one of his hands in a gentle manner over his chest, his
fingertips going to pinch his nipple.
There was a wide and quite evident smirk adorning his features as he rested his
head in the crook of Louis' neck, pressing soft kisses to the skin, the smirk
never fading away.
Louis tilted his neck to give Harry more access to his skin, his knees bending
and cradling Harry in between them.
His hands rested on Harry's sides, slowly and gently traveling up and down
until he decided to hook his fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers. He
pulled it out just a bit then let it snap against Harry's hip, "c'mon, Harry,"
he groaned slightly impatient, "Don't make me wait." And okay, he could wait,
he just didn't want to.
He knew he didn't have to wait.
His own cock was fully hard, lying back against his stomach and just begging to
be touch and given release.
Harry hissed a little as the band of his boxers snapped against his skin, he
withdrew his lips away from Louis' neck, "Don't be so impatient." He growled,
now, he's just saying that, because he wants this to last forever.
As cheesy as it sounds, he doesn't want this to end.
Harry licked his lips next, his dick was hard as a rock inside his boxers, so
big and just wanting a little bit of friction. So when he slid the clothing
down his long legs and tossed it aside, it immediately popped upwards and hit
his lower torso, making his eyes close for just a brief moment.
He leaned in again, his lips almost touching Louis' but he did not kiss him,
"What if I can't do it?" He whispered, and he could definitely do it, he wanted
this, but he was just afraid of snapping in the middle of it. "What if I hurt
you?" He said, even lower.
He didn't want to kill the moment, but it needed to be said, plus it wasn't
like Harry knew /exactly/ what to do next. He had never done it properly, he
always went in dry, he hurt people and made them suffer.
He didn't want that to happen with Louis, not again.
Louis chuckled lightly and brought his hands up to gently cup Harry's face,
pecking his lips and smiling at him.
"You won't hurt me. Just be gentle." He told him, pulling away and reaching
into his bedside drawer to retrieve a bottle of lube, handing it to Harry. He
knew that the boy knew what it was, he'd just never used it before.
"Put it on your fingers and open me up first," he instructed. It was strange
being the younger one telling the elder what to do but he had no problem with
it. It was perfectly fine.
Harry was being so hesitant about all of this. Hurting had become an instinct
with the time, he had grown used to it, oh so dearly and even now that he was
supposed to be okay, he was afraid of getting back to it.
Of enjoying it again like he once did and just do something he'll regret.
He was afraid of falling back into the darkness and destroy all the progress he
had archived in therapy.
He shook his thoughts away, popping the tap of the lube open. He knew what to
do with it, he knew what it was for and why it was needed, but he never saw the
spark of using it.
He sought pleasure in hurt, and that took it away from him, but now... Now he
needs it, he isn't looking for pain in others anymore, now he wants to pleasure
/Louis/ and make him enjoy.
That's what is important.
He poured the slimy liquid onto his fingers, and soon enough his finger tip was
being pressed against the rim of his hole, forming small circles over it in a
slow motion. Moments later he was finally pushing the finger into him in one
go, the warmth immediately engulfing his digit.
Louis clenched his hole around Harry's finger, his eyes squeezing shut. He was
definitely no stranger to the feeling of having fingers inside of him, it's
just that he hadn't had any proper sexual contact in almost a year and a half.
It didn't take him long before he was used to the feeling and starting to grind
down onto the long, slender finger. He rolled and rocked his hips downward, his
eyes opening and looking down at Harry.
"More, Harry. C'mon," he groaned, his hands flat at his sides.
Harry looked back at Louis, emerald eyes meeting sapphire ones, and he froze
for a few seconds at the intensity they radiated, at the lust and need he saw
in them.
He snapped back to reality, pumping his finger, one, two, three times, before
adding a second one. He did not wait a single second for anything to happen, he
immediately started to pump both of his long fingers into the tight hole he'd
only touched twice, if this one even counts a one of them.
His tongue darted out, flicking ever so lightly over his lesser lip, as his
eyes looked down at what he was doing, before looking back up at the younger
lad.
Louis arched his back about an inch off of the mattress, pushing down into
Harry's fingers and taking them deeper.
"Shit-" he said breathily, almost no sound coming out at all.
"Harry," he started, taking in a breath and loosely grabbing the bed sheets,
"Harry please. I-I'm ready," which, he already was. He's been ready ever since
he went to get Harry yesterday. He knew it was awful to be thinking that way
about him when he wasn't even at his house yet.
"Please, want you. /Need/ you."
Harry continued to pump his fingers in and out of the boy, going at a faster
pace within the time.
"I have waited so long for this..." He breathed out, before pulling his slender
fingers out of the feathery haired male. "So, so long.." He repeated, voice
being so low and just /deep/.
His tongue brushed against his lower lip as he scanned Louis' needy face, his
fingers wrapped around himself and he gave a few pumps, before crawling over
Louis again.
He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, the tip of his dick pressing
against Louis' bum hole as he started to penetrate.
A small moan left his mouth as he felt the tightness of Louis. It was just a
mesmerizing feeling. It had been so long since he last did this.
Louis hissed, his hand immediately tightening around the bed sheets.
It hurts, it always hurts no matter how much prep you get, but this was the
best kind of hurt.
The kind that bed been waiting to have willingly and not forcefully.
Harry was much bigger than Louis had remembered, but it's not really somebody's
first priority to remember how big the dick is of someone you're being 'raped'
by.
He felt Harry's entire cock buried inside of him, the feeling, Louis swore, was
enough to make him orgasm right then and there.
He wouldn't though.
He bent his knees, placing them on the bed and pushing down onto Harry, wanting
him to not be so still.
"Just, move, Harry. /Please/, need you. Fuck me." He basically begged, not even
being aware of his desperation.
Harry had his eyes closed, his hands rested by each side of Louis' head,
gripping the sheets with great force.
He felt as if he could stay like that forever, as if he were now locked with
Louis until someone came with a key and separated them.
He wouldn't have that happening, though. He wouldn't let anyone do it.
He slowly pulled his hips back, only leaving the tip in, "Tell me how much you
want it." He whispered into the younger's ear, a shaky breath leaving his mouth
a couple of seconds after.
He thrusted into him painfully slowly, not wanting to go too fast; to give him
it, until Louis answered his question, he wanted to know what the response
would be.
His hands clenched and unclenched against the sheets, he was just as desperate
as Louis was, but... surprisingly, he is just good at controlling himself.
Louis' legs were starting to shake, which was surprising since the good part
hadn't even begun yet.
His thighs spread wider for Harry to be between, finding it almost ridiculous
that he was able to spread then that far.
Harry's words rang through his ears. Was he really making him say it?
Louis wouldn't protest, though, who would at this moment?
"Harry, I don't want it." He said, not meaning it in the way he did two years
ago, "I /need/ it," his hands tangled into Harry's hair and lightly tugged on
it, "Please, don't hold back."
A light smile spread accords his features as he looked down at the feathery
haired male. He felt so good and just /happy/. This was what he wanted to hear,
what he /needed/ to hear.
He leaned in even more and pressed their lips together, starting the kiss as
gentle and sweet. He took his time to savor the moment and admire how thin and
soft Louis' lips were, even if they weren't as soft as a girl's would be.
By now, his hips were moving faster than before; his movements being more
continuous, just like Louis had requested.
One of his big palms caressed up and down one Louis' outer thigh.
Louis' back arched once again, a single hand dropping to wrap tightly around
his cock and pump it in almost sync with Harry's thrusts.
Just the feeling of Harry's dick being inside of him made him shiver, in the
best way possible, but still.
His hips adjusted, moving just enough for Harry to thrust in and rub against
his prostate, a sensation that made his toes curl tightly and his jaw to clench
momentarily.
"God- j-just like that, baby. Don't stop-" he said completely out of breath,
his voice in a higher pitch than usual.
"I'm not stopping.." Harry growled, shaking his head a little while his hands
continued to grasp the sheets tightly, he just, he needed to hold on to /
something/, something different.
Not long after, his slender fingers went for Louis' feathery hair, easily
tangling with it and pulling as the speed of his thrusts increased, going
faster than before, but trying his best to continue to move in the same angle
so he could keep rubbing Louis' prostate; to continue to pleasure him and just
give him what he needed and wanted.
He pressed soft kisses to his collar bones, going up a little to his neck and
just sucking, until he left hickeys in all the visible places that he could
find upon his path.
Louis mouth hung open, his breaths coming out extremely uneven and jagged. It
was coming. He could feel it. His stomach started to coil and tighten and the
sensation got stronger and stronger as Harry fucked him and as he touched
himself.
His legs began to shake, both from being tired and just from his nearing
orgasm.
"Oh god, Harry, I'm gonna cum-" he warned, his hand tightening around his cock
and his hole clenching and quivering around Harry's. Then, he came. Ribbons of
white painted his stomach and the outside of his fist, a choked out sob
escaping past his lips.
Harry's curls were sticking to his forehead, his cheeks were a bit rosy and his
eyes were closed as he thrusted slower, but harder.
The corners of his lips curled up a little as he heard the moans erupting from
Louis' mouth as he orgasmed, the simple sound if his voice made his toes curl
up, it was amazing.
He continued to thrust though, almost getting to his climax, he could feel it,
but he had to stimulate himself a bit more.
A couple of minutes after, his hands tugged harshly at Louis' hair as he moaned
right into his ear, releasing his own salty charge inside of him. He filled up
Louis' hole easily, some cum dripping a little on the sheets. Soft pants
escaped his mouth as he remained still.
Louis groaned at the feeling of Harry's cum inside of him, not a disgusted
groan but an approving one.
His hole clenched around Harry's dick, feeling overly sensitive.
His eyes finally managed to open, almost coming to full realization of what had
just happened.
He didn't regret it, of course not, he just felt guilty.
Of what? He wasn't one hundred percent sure.
All he knew was that this shouldn't have happened, he would never admit that,
though. He figured that it was obvious.
He pushed all of those thoughts away and weakly pulled Harry in for a gentle
kiss, his breath slowly but surely evening out.
Harry didn't feel guilty, not at all. He didn't regret his actions either, in
fact, he would totally repeat it a thousand times more.
Of course, he /knew/ their actions were completely wrong, he knows it shouldn't
have happened, at least not the first day he arrived to the apartment, but
maybe it was /meant/ to be, but who knows?
He shook all of his thoughts away, wanting to focus on what was currently
happening, to focus on Louis and only him.
He leaned in slowly, gently pressing their lips together into a soft kiss, one
of his hands slowly made its way from Louis' hair to cup one of his cheeks, his
thumb slowly forming tiny circles.
All of Louis' previous thoughts had completely withered away when he felt
Harry's mouth against his.
It was instinct, now, to just kiss Harry back, not only because he wanted to
but he felt like he was /supposed/ to. Not like he /had/ to, just like he was
meant to be doing it.
His legs rested, his knees still bent but lying basically fatigued and lifeless
on the mattress. He pushed his face up and against Harry's, his slung shivering
from the small gestures of Harry's thumbs.
Harry was so into the moment, this was all he ever wanted. He was happy, so so
happy, maybe this was the best moment of his life, he could cry out of
happiness right in that instant, but he won't. He wouldn't dare to ruin the
moment or to cry in front of Louis, that only happened once and it won't happen
again, ever.
At least that's what he thinks.
The kiss was slowing down, but it was not dying. It was just gentle, and not
rushed. He brushed his tongue against Louis' lower lip, asking for entrance.
With a careful movement of his hips, he slowly pulled out of him, but he
remained in between his legs.
Louis let out a small noise as he felt Harry exiting him, a small stinging
sensation taking his body over for a few moments.
He kept his lips attached to Harry's, his arms snaking around the older boy's
neck and holding him tight.
This is not what the institute meant by quartering and taking Harry in.
What it they found out that Louis lied about being Harry's sibling?
What if they ever found out about any of this? It made Louis anxious just
thinking about it.
They'd take Harry away. That much was certain.
He pulled Harry down so he was laying comfortably and completely on top of
Louis' body.
Harry had his mind off everything now, he was not thinking about the
consequences of this anymore, or about upcoming problems, nor about what Louis'
opinion regarding this, would be the next morning.
He was only thinking about Louis' lips and his soft skin, soon enough his
larger body was finally being allowed to collapse; to rest.
His hands dropped against the mattress, abdomen against abdomen. He slowly
pulled away from the kiss and looked into Louis' blue eyes for a brief moment,
before looking away and resting his head on his chest, listening to his
heartbeat.
He bit on his lip, closing his eyes as he tangled their legs, "Am I squeezing
you?" He whispered, still laying on top of him.
Louis smiled and wrapped his arms around Harry's body, as if hugging him.
"Yeah," he started, giggling and burying his face into Harry's head of dark
curls, "but I like it."
He pulled the blanket up and over their bodies, pressing soft, repetitive
kisses to Harry's head.
Louis took in one last deep breath before completely relaxing on the bed with
Harry on top of him. He could get used to this feeling; having somebody to
cuddle with and spend time like this with. Though Harry wasn't necessarily the
kind of person he had had in mind, Louis wasn't in any position to complain. He
was happy.
Harry cuddled closer to the young male, enjoying the soft lips being pressed
against his head; enjoying the arms loosely wrapped around his body.
It was all perfect, this is what he wants to feel like forever. He wants to
feel loved, he wants someone to care for him and hug him when he feels bad, he
wants someone to comfort him when he breaks down and just someone who doesn't
judge him about what he's done in the past, someone that understands him.
And that's exactly what Louis is doing with him, right? Louis is the person he
needs in his life.
The curly haired male hummed a little, tracing figures over his chest, his eyes
still closed. He could fall asleep in any moment, but first... He had to do
something, "Louis?" He whispered, licking his lower lip, "Do you still want to
know what my dream was about?"
Louis' eyes opened quickly, his hands lifting up Harry's head so he could look
at him.
"Only if you want to tell me. You can talk to me about anything." He assured
Harry, pecking the middle of his forehead. "But, I'd like to know."
Louis really does want to know but he's not going to force Harry to talk about
it. He couldn't even imagine the kinds of things that Harry's dreams or thinks
about because he knows they're probably awful, in which case, why does he want
to know?
Harry looked into Louis' blue eyes for just a couple of seconds, before pulling
his head away from Louis' hands and back against his bare chest. He didn't mean
to seem rude, but he just couldn't help it.
He gulped, starting to trace figures over his skin again, "I dreamt about
you..." He started, stopping his movements for a couple of seconds, before
continuing, "I dreamt about hurting you.." He whispered, biting his lower lip
as he pressed his head harder against Louis. "I was hanging you, my... My
therapist tried stopping me; I killed him." He murmured, he took in a deep
breath, going silent for a few seconds, "The movie messed up with my mind... I
think, but it just... I just- my actions felt so real, so.../natural/. It
scared me a lot."
Louis' while body started to shiver, his skin growing warm, yet he felt cold.
His eyes were widened just a bit, not wanting Harry to see that he was afraid
because this wasn't Harry's fault. Harry can't control what he thinks or dreams
about. He remained calm. Harry wouldn't hurt him. Right?
"It's okay," he whispered, running Harry's shoulder soothingly, "nothing
happened. Everything's okay."
But /was/ everything 'okay'? They've already gone too far with this
arrangement, who knows what else could happen?
Harry had already attempted to kill him before then apologized. It wasn't that
difficult for Louis to keep that memory in the back of his mind.
Harry could feel how Louis' body tensed up, and he felt bad about it, because
he had provoked it.
Oh, god.
He scared him, didn't he?
Now Louis thinks he is going to hurt him, and he just fucked up again. He
should've remained quiet, but he had to open his mouth and talk about it.
It isn't true; what Louis says about him being able to tell him anything isn't
true.
He can't do it, because then Louis will see him differently, Louis will only
see what Harry has told him from now on, or at least that's what Harry's
conclusions keep telling him.
And then there was Louis trying to soothe him and make him believe everything
is okay. This made him feel funny, it was a feeling he couldn't describe.
/This/ was what he wanted all his life; what he wanted his mother to be like
when he was younger, but he never got it. His mother never stopped to
understand him and ask what was wrong, sure, she worried about him and tried
'Helping' him by interning him in that institution, but she never bothered to
actually get involved with his problem.
The older male, rubbed his eyes a little and took in a deep breath, sniffling
just a tiny bit, "I'm sorry if I make you worry, that is not my intention." He
murmured, cheeks hot, "I like you... And I wouldn't hurt you, promise." But the
thing is, he promised the same thing, the last time; that he wouldn't hurt him
either, and he /did/ hurt him, and badly.
Louis shook his head just slightly, barely even moving it.
He moved the both of them so he could sit up and look directly at Harry, making
sure his expression was totally calm and normal. "Harry, you're okay," he tried
to console, one gentle hand resting on the spot where his neck met his
shoulder.
"I know you won't hurt me. I want you to tell me these things. It's not good if
you keep them a secret." He explained, leaning in and kissing Harry's lips for
only a second. Did Louis really think Harry wouldn't hurt him, though? Harry
could snap, literally, at any time. He forced the thought out of his mind.
Harry sat up as well, his hands immediately going to pull the blankets closer
to his body, he was cold, now that his body wasn't pressed against Louis'
anymore.
His green eyes locked with Louis' as he listened to his words. He shook his
head to the sides again, "You know it's not easy to talk about things." He
started, "Or.. Or did you tell you parents immediately what I... What I did?"
He questioned, "It's not easy to talk about my thoughts and actions, it scares
me. --I mean, wouldn't you be afraid to tell someone else that you want to hurt
them? Wouldn't the possibility of being locked again scare you? because believe
me, it frightens me to death. I don't want to go back there." But... Does he
really want to hurt, or did he just phrase his words the wrong way?
Louis knew what Harry was saying. He's never been in his sort of situation but
still, he understood. He slipped underneath the blankets and kept his distance
from Harry since he didn't seem in any state to be too close to Louis right now
even considering what had just happened a few minutes prior.
Louis was turned onto his side, facing Harry. "You're not going anywhere,
Harry. I promise." He said, even if he couldn't be one hundred percent sure
that this whole thing would work out. "And just so you know... My parents never
found out about any of this. It was difficult to keep it a secret, but I did
it."
They're doing promises that can't be kept, at least not for sure. Harry is
promising to not hurt him, but he doesn't know when he'll snap, when the
medicine will stop working, it will just happen.
And Louis... Louis is promising Harry that he won't go anywhere, but that's not
true, as soon as they find out that they're not siblings, they'll take Harry
away. Harry rested his head against the pillow, his eyes locked with Louis'
once again. He didn't pronounce a single word, he remained quiet, admiring
Louis' face.
Just a few minutes later he hesitantly scooted closer to him, snuggling his
head against his chest and one of his strong arms wrapping around his petite
waist.
He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, "You don't hate me, do you?" He
asked in a low tone of voice. Still pressed close to him, his fingertips gently
tracing figures on his lower back.
He could fall asleep right then and there.
Louis smiled and shook his head, pulling the blankets up even further onto
their bodies. "Of course I don't hate you, Harry," he assured, running a hand
through the older boy's messy hair, "I like you. And it's not your fault that
you dream these things. As long as you tell me about them, everything will be
just fine."
But would it? Look at what's happened already; Harry has moved in with Louis,
the had sex, they're sleeping in the same bed and Harry told him that he had a
dream about murdering Louis. Not exactly the ideal night to have.
Louis just hoped he could keep everything relatively under control.
Harry hummed a little, his hand movements slowing down little by little. Even
if he was tired, he was still able to smile at Louis' words, "I like you, too."
He told him, "And a lot." He added, a bit muffled as he began drifting off to
sleep.
He was glad to hear Louis said he didn't hate him, to hear him confirm that he
actually liked him. It released him from being insecure about that.
Harry pressed himself a little bit closer to Louis, his arms never leaving his
waist. His breath was calm and his face looked so peaceful.
A picture would be perfect, Louis cuddling against Harry, and Harry asleep and
snuggling against Louis.
It made Louis' heart flutter to know that Harry was relaxed. He didn't want him
to feel uncomfortable around him because of some stood dream that he had that
won't, hopefully, ever come true. Louis let one last kiss linger onto the side
of Harry's head, right by his temple, hoping it would signal that everything
was going to be alright. "We'll talk more in the morning," he whispered,
closing his eyes and letting himself drift off.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Harry and Louis can't seem to see each other eye to eye...
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the long wait!
     Once again, we apologize for any mistakes or grammatical errors.
      
     HAPPY READING!
It hadn't been long since Harry had moved in with Louis.
Of course, they had gone out, but just to buy groceries, Harry's clothes and
the mattress, but now they were going out for fun.
To do something that would be good for both of them.
Well, as you may know, Harry wasn't born here, he is from Cheshire, so he
doesn't really know the place. He was brought here directly to the institution
and nothing more, other than the time he escaped.
So Louis has decided to take him out and give him a tour, maybe take him to an
important building or something.
Harry doesn't really know where, it's supposed to be a surprise, according to
Louis.
The curly haired male pulled his jacket on, beanie on top of his mop of curls
and boots on his feet. The weather was still rather cold there.
"Can you at least tell me a hint of towards where we're going?" He asked,
looking at Louis as the other locked the door of the apartment behind them.
Louis didn't want to spoil where he was bringing Harry. He knew this probably,
scratch that; this /definitely/ wasn't a smart thing to do but he already had
his mind made up on what he was doing.
"Just wait," he said, taking Harry's hand, something that was basically
instinct and routine by now because of how often they do it on a day to say
basis.
Louis wanted Harry to meet some people, some very important people but he
wouldn't tell him because he figured that Harry would find a way to talk him
out of the arrangement.
He lead Harry past the car and just down the sidewalk next to the street, their
destination not too far away. "How about you guess..."
Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I have no idea.." He admitted, "If you give me
no hints there is no way I can guess the place." He pointed out, following
Louis towards wherever he was taking him.
He really couldn't think of any place, not a single one. I mean, he would
suggest the grocery store again, but they had gone there just a couple of days
ago, so there was no way they could be going again today, plus Louis seemed a
little bit excited of what he was doing.
Harry hummed a little for himself, his eyes taking in as much as he could of
the sights he could get through the streets.
His thumb gently moving over the soft surface that was Louis' hand.
Louis knew Harry would be nervous to meet these new people. Everybody is at
least a little nervous when they meet somebody they've never seen before and
that's understandable. But how will Harry react meeting the people who raised
Louis? And they have no idea about why even happened to their son that night a
few years ago?
Louis honestly has no idea on how he even kept all of it a secret, what with
Harry being on trial. Louis was just lucky that it was all over.
He lead Harry just a few more minutes down the sidewalk before he stopped in
front of a medium sized brick house, "You're meeting my mum and dad." He
informed Harry, looking carefully over at him.
Harry followed Louis with no further question about the subject. He just
believed in him, and that he would do what's best for him.
His hand never moved away from Louis' smaller one, in fact he even squeezed it
tighter with his own.
"---Wait. /What/?" He asked, a deep frown adorning his features as they stopped
in front of the house.
The curly haired male immediately yanked his hand away from Louis, taking two
small steps back. "Oh, no." He stared, shaking his head slowly, "I'm not going
to meet anyone." He refused, a chill running down his back just at the thought.
"I'm not." He whispered, still shaking his head.
Louis' eyebrows slanted downward, a sigh emoting from his mouth. "Harry, don't
be scared." He said, turning around towards him and closing the small distance
between them. "I really want you to meet them, and they want to meet you, too."
Yes, Louis had told his parents about Harry already, it wasn't that big of a
deal that he had a roommate. It was, however, a big deal about who his roommate
was.
"Please, Harry," he muttered, slipping his arms loosely around the older boy's
waist and resting the side of his head on his chest, "please do this for me. We
won't be here long." He assured.
It didn't take long for Harry to wrap his long arms around the younger's frame,
just like the other did, though, Harry's grip was tighter, more firm than the
one he was receiving.
He really didn't want to go inside, he didn't feel like meeting someone new,
like telling other people about himself, or anything at all. Even if it was
recommended to make friends, and socialize.
He didn't want to.
He pulled Louis closer to his body, nose burying into his feather-like-hair,
taking in his scent for a few seconds, before a sigh escaped past his lips.
"I don't want to, Louis." He muttered, but we all know Harry would eventually
give in to Louis, like it happened most of the time; a few words and kisses,
some hugs and touches, and Harry was giving in.
"Why would they even want to meet /me/?" He asked, brows furrowed together in
slight confusion.
Why would anyone want to meet him? He understood if his parents wanted to meet
Louis, but why would Louis' parents want to meet Harry?
Louis was frowning now, his eyes shutting as he hugged Harry a bit tighter.
"They're already expecting you." He informed Harry, "you don't have to talk to
them. But, they want to know who I've been living with."
Louis' eyes were now hooded, slightly opened and staring at a stray curl that
stuck out from the back of Harry's head. "Please? We won't be long, then we can
go home. I promise." He started to plead, though he didn't really care if Harry
met them or not, but he already told his parents about him and they were
already standing outside of their house.
He pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's neck, where he always did when he wanted
something, whispering repetitive 'please's between each one.
Harry took in another deep, long breath, having an internal battle inside his
head on whether he should keep refusing to go or if he should just go inside
and get this over with.
His thoughts were all soon cleared as several kisses pressed against /that/
spot on his neck he oh, so loved when it was touched.
He was fully aware Louis kissed it whenever he wanted something, whenever he
was trying to talk him into doing things, but he put no mind into it. He just
let it be.
He leaned into the touch, biting his lower lip just a tiny bit, before he
nodded his head slowly, "Alright." He murmured, "let's go in.." He added,
before he pulled away from Louis and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, he then
turned to the door and waited for Louis to ring the doorbell.
Louis smiled in victory and contemplated on whether or not to grab Harry's hand
again, but he just decided not to. His parents would be curious.
He lifted his hand up and pushed the button on the side of the door, hearing a
short ding on the other side and footsteps following soon after.
The door opened, the warm, welcoming face of his mother coming into his view.
"Oh, Louis. I was wondering if you were going to show up." She gleamed, pulling
her son in for a short hug.
"And who's this young man?" She asked, looming sweetly at Harry. She was a nice
person, she always had been and Louis didn't want Harry to be frightened by any
of his family members.
"This is my friend Harry," Louis answered, watching as his mother reached a
hand out to shake with Harry's.
"It's nice to meet you," she said, waiting for Harry to take her hand.
Harry frowned as Louis was pulled into the short hug. It was almost as if he
was the only one allowed to touch him, the only one allowed to go near him.
His expression vanished as the woman turned to him and asked who he was. He
remained quiet, feeling relief wash through his body as Louis was the one who
introduced him.
His emerald eyes then fell down to her extended arm, and he merely stared. He
didn't want to take it, he didn't want to be here, and he didn't want to meet
anyone, but unfortunately there is nothing he can do anymore.
He just figured Louis would like it if he is polite, that he is going to
appreciate it if he is nice to his family, so that's what he is going to /try/
to do.
"....You too. -Pleasure." His deep voice spoke, eyes still staring down at her
hand, before he slowly, and hesitantly lifted his hand up from his side and
connected it with hers, shaking a little, before pulling his it back to its
original place.
After the shake of hands, Johannah, Louis' mother led them inside the house,
"Louis, your sisters are upstairs if you want to see them. They've missed you a
lot." She commented as she closed the front door.
Louis nodded, leading Harry inside of the house and closing the door behind the
two of them.
"Come meet my sisters before you meet my dad, Harry." He said, taking his hand
and going up the stairs. He went into the playroom and saw his four little
sisters sitting around and playing dolls. The older two, though, didn't seem to
be having as much fun as the twins.
"Harry, these are the twins, Daisy and Pheobe, that's Fizzie and that's
Lottie." He introduced them, the twins being the first to get up and run over
to Louis.
"Hey girls," Louis smiled,waning down to hug his sisters. "Say hello to my
friend Harry."
Harry frowned following Louis up the stairs and soon enough there were girls
everywhere, like a gazillion of them. At least that's how they seemed in
Harry's eyes.
He hadn't been in front of so many girls in a while, and he just felt crowded,
he felt as if his personal space was being corrupted.
He looked at every single one of them in an almost frightened way, he wanted
them all to go away. He wanted to close his eyes and open them to only Louis'
body.
His hand squeezed Louis' ver tightly, his nails merely digging into his skin,
he just wanted to go home.
He just wanted Louis to hug him, or the other way around, it didn't really
matter. He just wanted to go away from all these people, but as his eyes turned
to look at Louis and then down at the beaming girls, he didn't dare to say the
words.
"....H-Hi." He whispered, pursing his lips together as he gave a small wave
with his free hand, his other hand still squeezing at Louis'.
Louis knew that Harry was having an awful time right now. Louis rubbed his
thumb against the back of Harry's hand. He looked up at him then back at his
sisters, noticing the confused look they had on their faces. "He's just a
little shy," he informed them, before turning and leading Harry out of the room
and down the stairs. He went slow so he could talk quietly to him. "You're
doing fine, Harry. Just a few more minutes with my parents and we can go home."
They made it to the bottom of the steps and Louis say his parents sitting in
the living room watching something on the tv. He hoped they weren't assuming
things about Harry.
Harry nodded his head at Louis' words, that's all he wanted; leave with Louis.
Louis' parents looked away from the tv, and shoot the two males a smile, "Hey,
boys... Why don't you have a sit?" Louis' father asked, signaling to the free
sofa.
Harry just looked at him expressionless, he didn't like the way they were
looking at him, but then again it could all be inside his head; he can be just
imagining the strange, quick glances at him.
Harry looked at Louis and then back at his parents, he took in a deep breath,
before realizing they were still holding hands, and he quickly pulled his hand
back and shoved it inside his jacket.
He was ready to clarify that they weren't in a relationship, but he restrained
himself from speaking, not even a single noise left his mouth. He just waited
for Louis to start walking towards them so he could do it, too.
Louis didn't like the sudden empty feeling in his hand but he didn't attempt to
grab Harry's again because it would raise suspicion.
"Just a few more minutes," he whispered just loud enough for Harry to hear. He
motioned for Harry to follow as he walked over to the couch and sat down, him
being the one closest to his parents since this was awkward and hard enough for
Harry already.
Once Harry was seated next to him, Louis' father decided to speak once again.
"So how did you two meet?" He asked and okay, to Louis that sounded like he was
interrogating a boyfriend of Louis', which he had done many times before and he
usually scared them off after the first visit.
Harry shifted a little bit on the sofa, his eyes wondering all over the room,
until they finally settled on Louis' parents.
He stared at them as if they were monsters trying to hurt him, but that was
just his mind playing with him. His expression vanished and a shy, sweet, but
rather forced smile replaced his features.
"I--I. We.. We met---." He stammered out, cheeks turning bright red as he sunk
into the cushions of the sofa as much as he could.
He didn't say a word again, he just remained quiet and looked down at his lap,
fingertips beginning to fidget with the hem of his shirt.
Louis' father turned to his son next, raised brows and waiting for an answer.
"He's an old friend from school." Louis finished, not looking at Harry because
he didn't want the older boy to think he was angry.
Because he wasn't.
Harry had already told him that he wasn't good with people and he didn't like
meeting new ones.
"I ran into him at the store and we just caught up."
Louis' father nodded and looked, once again, at Harry, as if he was examining
him for something deeper than what was visible on the surface.
He was strange, that much he had concluded. He was definitely shy, maybe even
socially impaired?, but he wouldn't say that out loud of course.
"So, Harry, do you work or anything?" He questioned, just trying to make the
conversation easy for Harry.
Should he lie?
Should he say the truth?
--Lying is bad, hiding things doesn't help in anything, because sooner or later
they'll find out the truth.
"It's... Complicated." Harry finally answered. Even if he tried to get a job,
they wouldn't give him it.
Harry bit on his lesser lip, scooting a little bit closer to Louis' body, to
the point where their knees and outer thighs were pressing against one another.
He would reach out and intertwine their fingers for security, but he didn't
want to answer any questions regarding that.
Louis' mother had her eyes on Harry the whole time, they would go to Louis
every so often, but they would soon return to Harry. She had a sweet smile on
her face, and she just seemed very kind.
Harry didn't really put attention to that, though, he just kept getting more
nervous than before as the time went on.
He could feel her eyes, and he just /thought/ that she knew everything about
him, that she could see right through him, and that she could tell Louis and
him were hiding something, but that wasn't really happening.
Just Harry's mind, again.
Louis thought of making up an answer for Harry but he felt like he was already
dug too deep in all of this.
He folded his hands over his lap, beginning to talk about how Harry helps
around the apartment, with groceries and stuff like that. Louis didn't want his
parents to think that Harry was a burden. He wasn't at all. Not to Louis at
least.
He knew that Harry was miserable right now and he was honestly trying to speed
all of this up. At some times when he looked over at Harry, the older boy
looked like he was about to pass out because of how scared he was.
Louis gently and subtly nudged his knee against Harry's, hoping that would
signal 'soon I promise'.
Louis' parents weren't oblivious to the fact that Harry was very nervous, and
maybe he had something wrong with him?, and they didn't want to make him feel
uncomfortable or obligated to be here.
"Well, me and Jay were going to take the girls to dinner tonight. I assume you
guys already have plans, unless you'd like to join us..." Louis' father spoke,
standing up as well as Jay.
Louis nodded, standing up as well and giving his parents a smile.
"Yeah, we do. Uh, I'll talk you all later then?" Louis said, hugging his mom
and dad quickly so Harry wasn't sitting there awkwardly for too long.
He turned away when he parents disappeared upstairs, of course not before
saying goodbye to Harry and telling him that it was nice to meet him.
When they were gone, Louis held his hand out for Harry.
Harry sat there without saying a word again, he merely stared down at his lap,
and bit on his lesser lip. His eyes glanced at Louis every so often, before
looking back down at his lap.
He wanted the sofa to eat him alive, and not let go until everyone in the house
was gone. He wanted to be left alone to think, he didn't want anyone to look at
him. He didn't want to feel like everyone was judging him.
Which was currently the only thing he felt like everyone was doing.
When Louis' parents said goodbye to him and that it was nice meeting him, he
didn't look up, he just whispered a "You too."
Harry finally looked up at Louis' hand when he was sure there was no one else
in the room, but soon enough, his hues went back down at his fisted hands. His
jaw clenched and unclenched, wanting to say so many things, but he remained
quiet.
After a good few silent and motionless minutes, Harry reached out and grabbed
Louis' hand, intertwining their fingers and standing up.
"I want to go home..." He whispered, gripping tightly his petite hand. He just
felt like falling deep into a dreamless slumber.
Louis couldn't help but smile at Harry. He grabbed the older boy's hand with
the same tightness as he was receiving, starting to lead Harry towards the
front door.
"We can go home, now." Louis said, opening the door and stepping out of the
house. Once they were out, Louis shut the door and started walking down the
walkway.
"Thanks for that, Harry. They kept calling and asking about finally meeting
you." He stated, turning onto the sidewalk and heading in the direction they
came from.
"I think they liked you." He added though he wasn't actually sure. Honestly, he
didn't care if his parents liked Harry because Louis liked him and that's all
that mattered. There really wasn't any explanation for his parents not to like
Harry, Harry hadn't given them a reason to.
Harry hummed a little in response to Louis' words, keeping their hands locked
with each other, though, he had loosened his grip.
"I don't think they liked me." He whispered, shaking his head, a small frown
building up in his features. "They didn't like me. They must think I'm so weird
and they probably will want me moving out of the apartment. I'll have to live
in the streets, because my parents won't take me in, and people will look at me
weirder, because I'll be a homeless person that's starving." Now, he was just
rambling, but he was dead serious about his words. He actually thought that
could happen, though, he wasn't sure it'd actually happen.
Harry followed Louis through the streets, eyes focused on his feet as he
walked, the side of his body pressed against Louis.
Louis shook his head and look up and to the side to see Harry.
"Honest, Harry, I don't care what they think. That's not important to me. I
want to you living with me and I want to be around you. Everything will be
fine," Louis tried to assure the older boy who was obviously having some issues
with the recent visit, "trust me."
He soothed the outside of Harry's hand with the padding of his thumb, turning
down the correct street on the way back to their home.
Louis didn't care about the generous amount of stares the two of them received
as they walked down the street, he could give two shits about what people
thought about him. But Harry, he wasn't sure he felt the same way about all of
that.
Harry /did/ care about what others thought of him, but that was just when he
was medicated, because when he wasn't; he didn't give a single shit about what
others thought of him or his actions. Not at all.
Harry could feel all the eyes plastered on them, but he just kept his head down
and continued to follow Louis back home.
It was until they were about to arrive, when he couldn't take it any longer and
roughly pulled his hand away from Louis, sinking it deep inside the pockets of
his jeans, his eyes still facing down.
It's not that he meant to be rude, but he had had enough of the judging time
today. He was exhausted and couldn't take that gaze any longer.
Harry didn't say a single word about Louis' parents again, he just kept it all
to himself; he was sure they had found so etching off on him. He knew that,
because he had seen their facial expressions, and they weren't exactly of
liking.
He wondered what his own parents would think of Louis... They'd probably love
him, well of course, if he hadn't practically kidnapped their son.
Louis looked over at Harry when he felt his hand by itself, frowning and
continuing to walk forward.
When they arrived at home, Louis let himself in first, leaving the door open so
Harry could enter.
Louis just sat down on the couch, kicked his shoes off and adjusted his legs to
sit cross cross, his hands folded in his lap and his head facing forward. He
wasn't mad. He had no reason to be mad. It was clear that Harry was
uncomfortable and that's just fine, but Louis really didn't want Harry to be
quiet and anxious after every visit they had with his parents.
"You're okay, yeah?" He asked, "I mean, you're not upset about anything, are
you?"
Louis' voice was genuinely curious and concerned.
He didn't want Harry to be uncomfortable here and around his family or anybody
else, and if he was, Louis knew that this wasn't the best place for him to be.
Harry closed the door behind him, biting on his lesser lip some more, he was
sure his lip was at least a bit red, because of how much he had grazed it with
his teeth today, but that didn't stop him from doing it.
"I'm not upset with /you/, if that's what you're wondering." He finally
answered, taking the beanie off his head and setting free his wild, chocolate
curls. He ran his slender fingers through them, as he walked towards the couch
where Louis was sitting. He placed himself next to Louis' petite frame, and
looked him in the eyes, "Are /you/ upset, because I didn't really talk to your
parents like you'd have wished? ---I'm sorry." He rambled a little, fiddling
with the beanie he had in hands, "I just... I'm sorry." He repeated.
Louis shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at Harry's question. "I'm not
upset. Not at all. I just feel like you're going to be that way with everybody
I introduce you to. It's not your fault but, I just don't want you to be scared
around anybody." He explained, twisting his body so he was facing Harry.
He rested his elbow against the back of the couch and nestled the side of his
hand into the palm of his hand.
"Harry, nobody knows about what happened with you. You have nothing to worry
about. I'm sure of it." Louis consoled, taking a breath in and deeply letting
it out, "and even if people /did/ find out about it, I wouldn't care. I like
you and I want you to be here for a long time."
Harry gripped the beanie tightly, "I am not scared, okay?" Or is he? "I don't
want you to introduce me to anyone, I'm just fine. I don't want to get to know
new people." He shook his head, his concerned and guilty expression was
absolutely gone, and replaced by an expressionless one, a blank one.
"Not just because your parents don't know what happened I'm going to hug them
like there's no tomorrow. It's not like I'm going to lovingly interact with
them as if they were now family, or what not. That's being a hypocrite, I
guess? I threatened to kill them; to hurt them, and when they do find out
they'll hate me. I don't want to get attached to anyone to then get hated by
them. I don't want to get attached, because I don't know when I'll snap. I
don't know what I'm capable of when I'm fucking mad." He sighed letting the
beanie fall to the floor, and his hands fly up to intertwine with his curls, as
his elbows rested over his knees. "I don't want to have to worry about
protecting more people from me..."
Louis' eyebrows quirked as he listened to Harry explain himself. It kind of
made him think...
"Well, if you're not comfortable around other people and you're afraid that you
may hurt them then, maybe you shouldn't be here." He said without even letting
his mind process what he said before it came out of his mouth.
Harry was important to him but so were a lot of other people.
If Harry hurt them or didn't even try to be social with them, Louis knew that
things weren't going to work out.
He stood up from the couch, rather abruptly, walking off to his bedroom.
He really didn't have any intention on starting an argument like they've had on
rare occasions so he just decided not to sit around and deal with it.
He just went to lay down on his bed, his head resting in the palm of his hand.
It wasn't late, only around 5pm so going to sleep wasn't really in the realm of
possibility; at least for Louis.
Harry remained seated on the couch as Louis started to walk away, and soon
enough, he was nowhere to be seen.
He just sat there, staring down at his hands for a good couple of minutes. The
words that had been uttered out of Louis' mouth, were words that he never
thought he would hear, at least not from him. He even feels stupid for looking
for reassurance in him earlier today.
He was mad; he was furious, and he didn't know what to do. He just wanted to
destroy everything that came upon his path.
What did Louis mean by that?
'maybe you shouldn't be here.'
Was he like... Kicking him out in a polite way?
Where was he supposed to go? He had no one. No friends, no f--. His sister, she
would take him in, right?
His parents wouldn't, would they? No..
Harry was just making assumptions and plans for something he wasn't entirely
sure that'd happen.
He was overthinking things, but oh well.
He stood up from the couch, beanie placed back on his head, and before you knew
it, he was throwing cushions around the room, and of course, there was no noise
made, because he didn't hit anything with them.
With clenched jaw, the curly haired male walked out of the apartment and closed
the door behind him.
Louis knew Harry was gone when he heard the door shut.
He wasn't going to chase after him, that would make him seem desperate and
weak.
That's not what he was.
Harry had no cell phone so calling or texting him later on wouldn't be an
option.
Louis sat up in his bed and stared blankly at the wall. Maybe he overreacted
about this whole thing? Maybe he was a bit insensitive to how Harry was feeling
but, he felt like he was sort of reasonable. Wasn't he? Harry needed to get
used to being around new people that he didn't necessarily like or want to be
around. That's what every person has to deal with and if Harry wanted to be in
the regular world with regular people, he would have to deal with that.
Louis walked out of his room and went, instead, to the living room to see his
couch cushions on the floor but nothing broken or damaged.
That made him feel relieved though, it was obvious that Harry was very angry.
He shouldn't be walking around in public when he's angry, should he?
He really shouldn't be walking around in public when he is angry, or at all. At
least until he learns how to be around people, like any other normal person.
Which most likely won't happen, because he will never be like the others, but
he can try his best at it.
If you think about it, this is actually the very first time the curly haired
male goes out through the streets by himself. All the other times he's gone
out, it has been with Louis, but now... He's all by himself.
His big hands were turned into tight fists, his brows were furrowed together
into a deep frown, and his jaw was still clenched.
His breath was heavy, and he really had no idea of towards he was going, but he
really didn't care either.
He just wanted to get away.
Let's just hope no one interrupts his stumping feet, because if so, he'll snap.
Louis knew he had to go find Harry. He had no choice, really.
Harry was /his/ responsibility now and he didn't want to risk Harry's freedom
just because Louis was being sort of selfish towards the older boy. He clenched
his phone in his fist and exited his apartment, turning right just because he
didn't know where Harry went. He'd find him eventually, though. That he was
certain of.
He wouldn't call out his name.
He wouldn't make it known to everybody that they were disagreeing right now.
Louis kept a sharp eye out for a curly mop of brown on a five foot ten body
just hoping that he hadn't gotten too far away.
It wasn't long before Louis had finally spotted him and began to jog at a
steady pace in Harry's direction.
He still stayed silent, reaching his hand out for Harry's shoulder when he was
only a foot or two away from him.
"Harry, stop," he said, trying to spin him around.
As soon as he felt the petite hand grip one of his shoulders, his body
stiffened. He didn't know who it was, but he just felt furious with the other.
He would have probably known who it was if he had listened to the voice calling
his name, but that sound merely echoed in the background, it was as if though,
it wasn't even spoken.
With clenched jaw and the deep frown in his face, the older male spun around,
hands immediately going to push the other away from him, "/Don't/ ever in your
life, touch me again." He spat, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, green
eyes lock with blue ones.
At first, his emotions get conflicted again. He feels hurt, sad, preoccupied,
but soon enough the anger is back in his head.
Louis knew that as soon as Harry laid his hands on him, he was going to be on
the ground.
He fell, not feeling any pressure or pain because of how shocked he was by
Harry's behavior.
Harry had never /attempted/ to lay an abusive hand on him even when they had
fought in the past.
He stared up at Harry, feeling so embarrassed at the fact that his eyes were
beginning to fill with moisture but he couldn't help it. He was so upset and
shocked at Harry's behavior.
What if it had been someone else? A little kid or an old person asking for
help?
Louis got up on his own, still staring at Harry, mostly just to assure that he
didn't try to push him again.
"What the fuck is your problem?" He asked loudly, maybe louder than he should
have, takings big step backwards.
"What the fuck is /my/ problem?" He asked, incredulously. The frown on his face
deepened, "No--/No/. What the fuck is /your/ problem?" His voice is being loud,
but not exaggeratedly, just loud enough to intimidate.
He took a couple of steps forward, almost pressing against the younger male,
but he kept his distance.
His hands went to grip the other's shirt, clenching his jaw once more, "Tell
me, why in the bloody hell are you here, hm?" His expression was cold, no ounce
of the sweetness he had this morning. "And please, don't tell me you wanted to
talk, because I'm sure you didn't!"
His fingers curled a little by the collar of his shirt, bringing him almost
face to face ; nose against nose.
His eyes were locked with Louis' all the time, not even once did they glance
towards another direction.
Louis turned his face away from Harry's, trying to get rid of the feeling of
the older boy's hot breath on his face. He was thankful that nobody was around
to see this because if they were, try would have probably called the police and
Harry would be in trouble. Not in jail, just in trouble.
"This isn't you, Harry. I know it's not," he said shakily. He never wanted to
feel afraid of Harry again and he knew Harry didn't either.
Louis tried to get Harry to let go of him but he couldn't get his grip
loosened.
"I don't want to fight with you but, it seems like /you/ don't care." He added,
his eyes reddening and a single tear slipping down his cheek. He brought a hand
up to his face to wipe it away, gently grabbing Harry's hands and undoing his
fists and taking one more step backwards. "And I actually /did/ want to talk to
you but all you want to do is yell at me. I didn't even do anything to you."
Louis walked back before he finally turned around, walking away from Harry. He
didn't want to speak with him at the moment and if he was being honest, he
wasn't sure if he wanted him to come tonight.
Harry felt more furious than before walking out of the apartment. He was
radiating rage and wanted to let it all out.
/How/ is he letting it out, though? That's the real question.
He watched how Louis started to walk away from him again, --second time he had
done it today, and it only made him more frustrated.
He allowed a groan go past his lips, hands going into tight fists, nails
digging into his own skin. It hurt, of course it did, but he didn't care at the
moment. Not one bit.
"That's what you're going to do?" He called out, "Just going to fucking walk
away from your problems?" He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but
it was no use, "You're a pussy and I /hate/ you!" He yelled angrily, turning on
his own feet.
"I would rather die, before going back into that apartment with you tonight!"
He told him, without really processing what was said. He started to walk in the
opposite direction, blocking every sound around him.
Louis stopped in his tracks, his wet eyes widening as well as his mouth.
He turned his head to the side to try and see behind him but all he could see
was Harry angrily walking away.
He didn't mean that.
He couldn't have meant it, right?
There's no way Harry hated him.
But it made Louis feel like shit.
He started crying even more as he continued walking down the sidewalk on his
way home. Nobody else would take Harry in, that much he knew.
-
When he finally got home, he immediately went to his room and slammed his door
shut as if he was a little kid throwing a tantrum. But this was so much worse
and more complicated.
Of course he wanted Harry to come back, he hadn't slept by himself in weeks.
Not only that but he didn't want Harry to be out by himself because he wasn't
used to being around other people and it didn't help that he was furious
either.
Louis couldn't even close his eyes because Harry's words were replaying in his
head over and over again: 'I hate you; you're a pussy; what the fuck is wrong
with you?'
Of course Harry hadn't meant what he said, he just said it, because he was
hurt, and because he wanted Louis to feel just the same.
Which was bad, really bad, and he knew it, but at the moment he really couldn't
care less. At least he didn't hurt him, physically.
Any other moment he would've wished death upon him and actually try doing it,
but now... He was better; better for Louis and himself.
It's a shame that it's all going to waste this way.
The curly haired male had been walking for what seemed like ages, his feet
hurt, but he didn't want to stop.
-
When he finally came to a stop, it was late; he didn't know how to go back. He
had given too many turns and gone deep into the city, he had no idea of how to
go back.
Not that he minded, at all. He had actually said he wouldn't go back into the
apartment again, so why try to find a way back?
Letting a sigh escape out of his mouth, the curly haired male sat on a bench. A
park's bench, to be more specific. He sat there and stared down at his feet,
deep into thought.
What was going to be of his life if he decided to not go back with Louis?
--they'd just try to find him, right? The doctors, I mean.
He hated being so dependent of Louis.
Lois wanted to just lay there in his bed and wait. Wait for Harry to come back
but if he knew anything about the older boy, which he did--he knew a lot about
him-- he wouldn't be coming back willingly.
Harry is probably one of the most stubborn people he's ever known but Louis
didn't care about that.
He just wanted him to be home and safe... With him.
Should he go look for him before somebody else finds him?
What if somebody approaches him incorrectly and Harry hurts them? Or even
worse?
Louis let out a deep sigh and sat up in his bed.
He couldn't just lay there and wait. He would be waiting for a long, long time.
He stood up, his shoes still on, and walked out of his apartment.
He wasn't even sure which way to go this time since Harry was long gone,
probably even out of the neighborhood.
He walked at a fast pace down the sidewalk, turning and looking around just
trying to see some sign of Harry.
A part of him kept thinking that maybe Harry would be looking for him also, or
maybe he was already back at the apartment waiting for Louis.
No fucking way.
Why was Louis even wasting his time looking? Harry said himself that he 'hated'
Louis and that he would rather die than go home with him.
But Louis knows that he can't take what Harry says seriously, especially when
he's angry.
It had been quite a while since Harry had sat on the bench at the park, his
butt was even starting to hurt, just a little bit, but it hurt.
He sighed, rubbing his face a little bit with his fingertips. He didn't know
what to do, if he went back home, or tried doing it, he would just get even
more lost, and if he stayed here he would have to sleep in the cold. Unless
Louis found him, but he wouldn't go with him that easily, no.
He stood up from the bench and headed to what looked like the center of the
park, he got on his knees and soon enough he was lying on the soft grass,
visage facing the sky.
-
Everything had been going great, he had just laid on the grass as the wind blew
around and crashed against the leaves of the trees, making peaceful sounds.
His peaceful moment was interrupted by a kid kicking a soccer ball straight to
Harry's face, hitting him rather hard.
The curly haired male frowned deeply, curse words being whispered under his
breath as he sat up and glared at the kid.
"Sorry, pass the ball!" He said, but Harry didn't comply.
He grabbed the ball with his big hands and before anyone had time to react, he
was throwing the ball back to the boy. He hit him right on the face, too. With
the double amount of force the other had used.
The kid fell to the ground while reaching his hand up to his face, checking to
see if his nose was bleeding which luckily, it wasn't.
-
Louis kept a sharp eye out for Harry; he had been walking for about twenty-five
minutes now.
He finally started to approach the park in the middle of the major town
surrounded by a few smaller ones, like the one he lives in.
The first thing he noticed was a kid on the ground with a soccer ball lying
right next to him and Harry standing not but fifteen feet away.
Shit.
Louis started to run before Harry had the chance to do anything else to the kid
who looked like he wasn't more than ten years old so he knew how much damage
Harry could do to him.
Louis knew this time not to approach Harry from behind, instead staying about
two feet away from him as he made his way to Harry's side.
He was glad about the fact that he had found Harry, but he was address that
later.
"Harry," he started, keeping his voice low like how he always talked to Harry
when he had a tantrum or started to get really angry, "Harry, just calm down.
C'mon, let's just go home."
Harry turned his face to look at Louis, his expression softened just at the
sight of the young boy with sapphire eyes.
He was glad to see him, in a way at least; that meant he wasn't going to have
to sleep in the cold for the rest of his days, plus he felt /important/ and
wanted, because Louis had taken his time to look for him.
He pursed his pink lips together, before his hand flew towards Louis' face, it
seemed as if though, he was going to hit him, but he didn't.
He simply cupped his cheek in a gentle manner, "No." He said softly, a smile
curling up by the corners of his lips, and his thumb rubbed in small circles
against his skin. "I'm not going anywhere." He stated, before snatching his
hand away from his soft cheek.
He looked at the kid on the floor, before shrugging and lying back on the grass
like he was in the first place, "And don't even dare to tell me that I
shouldn't be here."
He wasn't mad anymore, no, he had let most of the anger out earlier, and the
rest had been put in that hit he gave to the boy.
But the fact that he wasn't mad anymore, didn't mean he was just going to
forget everything and go back home.
Louis sighed, he knew Harry wasn't just going to give in like that.
He stood there for a few seconds before he finally sat down cross legged next
to Harry, starting to pick individual pieces of grass out of the soil.
"Harry, don't be so stubborn." He said, keeping his eyes glued to the ground.
"Where do you think you're going to go? Police patrol around this town every
night and if they see you laying out here, they'll take you and with your
record, it won't look good at all." And okay, maybe he was overreacting a
little bit but the police patrol part was true. They also /would/ reprimand
Harry.
"Besides," he began again, shrugging his shoulders, "I /want/ you to come home
with me. I don't like being by myself."
Louis looked over and saw the group of younger boys walking away while helping
their slightly wounded friend get to the other end of the park.
He couldn't help but chuckle a little.
Harry looked up at the boy sitting beside him, he raised his brows in a
questioning way, "Why are you laughing?" He asked, before closing his eyes
again.
His hands rested over his lower torso, tapping his slender fingers over the
cotton shirt he was wearing, moving them just slightly.
"Anyway.." He started, "You want me to go home, because you don't like being by
yourself; so, you're somehow using me for your needs, right?" He asked,
pressing his lips together.
He took in a deep breath, sliding his hand up from where they were, all the way
up to his neck, using them to support his head as he waited for a response to
be uttered out of the boy's mouth.
Soft hums were leaving his lips every so often, the air crashing against the
leaves taking over his senses once again.
Louis was getting quite annoyed right now. Why couldn't Harry just realize that
Louis wanted him? Wanted to be with and around him?
Louis stood up quickly and shook his head, looking down at Harry with an upset
look on his face.
"You know what, if you don't want to come home, that's fine. Just remember
though, you have no where else to go. If you stay out here all night the police
will pick you up."
He explained with a sort of threatening tone.
"I'm not going to argue with you anymore and I'm not going to beg you to come
back. So make up your mind now or I'm leaving." He didn't want to come off as
bitchy but he was getting more than fed up with Harry. Yes, it's good to be
independent but it wasn't the best thing for Harry to do right now.
It was as if though, Harry hadn't heard a single word of what Louis said ; as
if it had gone into one ear and out through the other.
He sighed, opening his eyes to reveal deep, green orbs.
He looked up at Louis, meeting with upset eyes, it wasn't what he expected, but
he really didn't mind them.
It wasn't like he was /trying/ to upset him, but he wouldn't try to make him
feel any better either.
Maybe another time.
He propped himself on his elbows and raised one of his brows, "Would you kiss
me, Louis?" He asked, giving a swift lick to his dry, pink lips.
It might have been an unexpected question... Perhaps even weird, but he was
just wondering; he wanted to know the answer. Even if they had kissed plenty of
times before.
"I mean... Like, would you kiss me right here, right in this second if I asked
you to?" He added to his past words.
Louis' eyebrows quirked up in confusion and some anger when he noticed that he
had basically been ignored.
What the hell does kissing have to do with anything?
Was it brought up because Harry knows how soft and forgiving Louis is? Or
because he just really likes to piss Louis off?
"Based on how you've been acting, no. Probably not," he started, not wanting to
make Harry mad so before that could happen he began to talk again. "But, based
on how much I like you, which is much more important, yes."
It seemed as though Harry was trying to steer this situation in a different
direction, one totally opposite to the one they were going in just a few
minutes ago.
Harry frowned slightly as he looked at Louis, he pursed his lips together and
merely stared at him.
This went on for a couple of seconds, his mind debating on what to do or say.
He could shrug it off; everything they said and did today, and go home or
continue to make a big deal about things.
It didn't take him long to decide what the right, and more convenient option
was, at least for him.
"Then, kiss me. Louis, do it and we'll go home." He said softly, and in a
rather low tone of voice.
Harry actually wanted to change the direction of their conversation; he didn't
like it when Louis began acting like this with him.
He didn't like being threatened or ordered to do things he didn't want to do,
and much less; he didn't want Louis to be upset with him for the rest of the
week or so.
If only they hadn't gone with his family, this wouldn't be happening, huh?
Louis didn't say anything else right away to Harry, he didn't really know what
to say anyway. The way Harry's moods changed sometimes scared Louis, not
knowing when he could snap.
Louis sat down next to Harry, thinking that maybe he should just say 'no' and
go home. He shouldn't care about what happened to Harry.
He knows he shouldn't but he's in so deep already with him that he can't bring
himself to walk away.
Louis just wanted to go home and he wanted to have Harry at home with him. He
didn't want to be by himself.
He didn't want to have to worry about Harry getting in trouble or getting hurt.
Louis was sitting to the side on his hip, one of his hands holding his body up.
He would have no problem kissing Harry in public but he didn't think Harry
would have an idea to do that since he doesn't like people.
He didn't even like people seeing the two of them holding hands.
"You confuse me so much," he said, his voice lightening from his previous tone,
"I just wanna go home."
And with that, he leaned in, his lips gently coming into contact with Harry's.
Harry felt a small current of a tingly sensation go down his spine, as Louis'
soft, thin lips pressed against his own with such delicacy; with such elegance.
He loved the sensation of their lips moving together like water across a river.
It was so natural, as if it was meant to be this way forever.
His eyes closed briefly, his pale hand slowly reaching up to cup Louis' cheek
and pull him closer.
The kiss remained gentle and slow, it was not like their usual ones; it was not
fiercely, it was not fast and sloppy.
Slowly, Harry pulled away from the kiss and looked into Louis' eyes, "let's go
home." He whispered, his thumb forming small circles over his skin, until he
pulled his hand away, not too subtly.
With that, the beautifully peaceful moment was broken, and he was standing up
from the grass. He brushed off his jeans and looked down at Louis.
They were times like these, where Harry confused himself, too.
Louis licked his suddenly alone lips, slightly frowning as he looked up at
Harry. He sighed and stood up as well, getting to Harry's side.
"Can you uhm- can we hold hands?" He asked rather hesitantly, not wanting too
sound greedy since he had already gotten a kiss; something he didn't think
would ever be given to him in public.
"We don't have to though, if you don't want." He assured, averting his eyes
from Harry.
He wasn't exactly sure of how Harry's mood was right now; if he was still upset
about their argument or if he was satisfied that he got what he wanted.
Maybe it was a bit of both; he was satisfied with the kiss, but he hadn't
forgotten about their argument.
Harry looked down at Louis' hands, before redirecting his gaze to look at
Louis' expression, in hope to find any sign of how he was feeling.
He shrugged, larger hand reaching out for the smaller one. He laced their
fingers together and gave a lick to his lips, before speaking his thoughts,
just to clear things.
"Just because we kissed and currently hold hands, doesn't mean I'm less upset
with you." He stated, feet starting to move, but he didn't even know towards
where he was walking. So when he realized that, he stopped again.
"I don't know where home is, so you take me." He whispered, biting the inside
of his cheek, and looking down.
Louis nodded, starting to walk in the direction that Harry was since he had
started off the right way.
"I just don't get why you're mad at me." He said quietly, holding Harry's hand
securely.
He really didn't know, he thought Harry could've gotten over all of this
already I mean, it's been a few hours already.
But throughout all of the time they've spent together, Louis has learned not to
rush Harry into talking about things or getting over things because it would
just upset the older boy even more.
He looked down at the sidewalk, counting the cracks and occasionally lifting
his head to read the street signs to make sure they were going the right way
home.
Harry didn't answer right away, he just walked beside him in a silent way as
they turned a few times through the streets.
It seemed weird, any other person would have gotten over this a while ago, they
wouldn't have made much of a big deal, but then again; Harry isn't like any
other person in the ordinary world.
He took in a deep breath, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck a little
bit.
"I'm mad at you, because..." He started looking down at the ground, "because
you want me to do things I don't want to do. --because you considered the
possibility of me not longer living with you."
He explained.
Louis tightened his grip on Harry's hand. Harry's tone wasn't angry and loud
like before, he was just explaining it seemed.
"I was mad. I didn't mean that. And you have to realize that everybody does
things that they don't want to. That's how it works in the normal world." He
stated, not apologizing for dragging Harry to his family's home because
honestly, he had no reason to be sorry. They got it over with and it was out of
the way.
"I don't understand why you can't just get over something. Why does it matter
if you meet new people? Doesn't it mean anything to you that it'll make /me/
happy if you get along with the people I love," he started, his tone thickening
and his grip loosening, "or are you just too hung up on yourself to care?"
"Fucking hell, Louis. You don't understand anything!" Harry exclaimed, pulling
his hand away from Louis' and shoving it inside the pockets of his jeans.
"That's not how things should be, that's not the right thing. -My therapist
assured me that I didn't /have/ to do things I didn't want to. He said I
couldn't be forced into anything. That I had a say in it."
But perhaps he was referring to the voice in your head, Harry.
He let an exasperated sigh go past his lips. "I have done nothing but try to
please you since you took me in, but yes Louis. All I think about is me; I'm
nothing more than a selfish, traumatized twat that can't get over anything."
And just like that an angry, salty tear rolled down his left cheek. He
immediately cleaned it.
All he wanted to do now, was rip his eyes out.
Louis flinched when Harry's voice got loud.
Why couldn't Louis just learn to keep his mouth shut? They were just fine and
Louis turned everything around again.
Louis crossed his arms over his chest and he looked up at Harry, this being the
first time he'd ever seen him cry.
Louis stopped walking and took a seat on a bench that was just aside the
sidewalk, he didn't wasn't to walk anymore.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he said shakily, taking in a deep breath. He didn't want to
start crying again, "I'm sorry I fuck everything up."
What else was he sorry for? He was sorry for blaming Harry for everything and
never thinking about /his/ feelings or opinions.
Louis was the one being selfish.
He did add any of that, though. He hope that what he said would be enough.
Harry looked back at Louis, his lips sealed like two pieces of metal as he
simply stared at him.
What was he supposed to say? There was nothing he /desired/ to say, not right
now at least.
He let a breath go past his lips as one of his hands reached up to rub the back
of his neck. He looked down at his feet, before deciding to speak once again.
"I just want to go home, Louis." He said, voice calmer and softer than what it
was before. "Please, take me home. -I'm tired." He added to his past words.
Harry's gaze didn't move away from his feet, afraid that he would show sadness
or anger through them. He didn't want Louis seeing any of those feelings.
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, still waiting for Louis to
stand up from the bench.
Louis didn't get up right away.
His head was hanging down and he was taking deep breaths, in and out, to try
and calm himself.
It wasn't worth it.
The fighting was totally pointless and wouldn't get either of them anywhere.
He wiped his face and abruptly stood up.
He walked past Harry, knowing he would just follow him the rest of the way
because honestly, Louis didn't want to talk to Harry right now.
In fact, he didn't feel like talking to /anybody/.
His arms were crossed tightly over his chest as he stared at the sidewalk
passing by.
Was he being a baby about all of this? He knew for a fact he was being an
asshole to Harry and he hated that but, he didn't know how else to approach
this situation.
Harry pursed his lips together as he started to walk behind Louis. He did not
bother to catch up with him, he figured it was not worth fighting yet /again/
for something stupid, plus it was more than obvious that Louis didn't want to
see him or even be beside him.
He nibbled on his lower lip, hands digging deep into his pockets as he
continued to walk, his eyes would burn up against Louis' back every so often,
before returning to look back at his shoes.
It wasn't more than about fifteen or less minutes later, that they arrived to
the building where the apartment was.
Harry gulped thickly, hands starting to fiddle with his clothing as they went
up the stairs. He was afraid of what would happen next.
Louis still didn't say anything to Harry. He didn't want to.
He knew that whatever he said it would somehow turn into an argument.
It almost always did.
He took out the apartment key from his back pocket and unlocked the door when
he reached the right one, letting himself in and leaving the door open for
Harry who was trailing closely behind him.
He didn't want to immediately run off to his room; he didn't want to leave
things like this.
This arrangement wasn't going to be fun for either one of them if they're
fighting all the time, especially over stupid shit like this.
Louis kicked off his shoes and pushed them aside, pulling his legs up to sit
Indian style on the furniture.
"Harry, I don't want to fight with you," he finally spoke up, "this is
ridiculous."
"Of course it's ridiculous." Harry agreed as he nodded in a slow manner, the
door closing behind him.
"So damn ridiculous, yes." He continued, leaning down to take his boots off, he
pushed them aside and then started to take his jacket off.
With that done, he turned his attention to Louis. He walked towards his
direction, though he was not intending to have a seat with him to talk about
it, he was not going to do it again.
"That's why I'm not going to talk about it anymore." He assured him, leaning
down and pressing a trail of kisses up his neck. His hands giving a few
squeezes to his shoulders, "Or to you for that matter."
With that said, he withdrew his hands and lips from Louis and started to walk
away to his room.
He shut the door behind him, a low bang coming out from it.
Louis shivered, not only from Harry's lips but from the noise of the closing
door vibrating through the floor.
Why was Harry being so fucking difficult right now?
All Louis wanted to do was resolve this conflict and just forget about it
already.
Which, it seemed as though Harry already had gotten over it for the most part
and just wasn't that good at showing it.
Louis stood from the couch and walked down the hallway to his room, muttering a
faint "asshole" as he passed Harry's room.
He entered his own, leaving the door open just because he didn't have the
energy to actually give himself some privacy.
He fell front first onto the bed and crossed his arms underneath his forehead.
What? Was Harry just going to avoid him now?
That would be close to impossible.
Harry rubbed the back of his neck as soon as he closed the door of his room.
Of course he wasn't going to be able to avoid Louis forever, not while living
with him; he would just have to talk to him when necessary, but nothing more.
Though, I highly doubt that he'll be able to keep his distance for long.
He walked towards his bed and stripped off to his boxers, his clothes left
scattered all over the floor. He bit on his lip gently as he got under the
covers and put himself in a fetal position.
He had not taken his medicine in all day, he was supposed to take it earlier,
but he didn't do it, and he's not planning on doing it any time soon, either.
Louis adjusted the position he was in on his bed, shimmying underneath the
blankets and using his toes to take his socks off.
He didn't even bother to change into his pajamas because he was too lazy for
the most part.
He really wanted to go and talk to Harry to try and figure out what was making
him act so difficult and distant from Louis but he knew that Harry wouldn't
care about what he had to say right now.
That didn't keep Louis from getting out if his bed only a few minutes later.
He walked to Harry's room and gently tapped his finger on the wooden door, not
expecting him to open it but hoping at least to get a verbal response.
He didn't want to be arguing with Harry for even one more hour, though Harry's
gentle kisses didn't necessarily make it seem like an argument.
Harry bit on his lesser lip, considering the possibility of faking being
asleep, or just telling Louis to fuck off and leave him alone, but to be
honest; he didn't want to do any of those things.
He wanted to see Louis, they didn't even had to talk. He just wanted to spend
sometime with him, to touch him in any way possible, but that wasn't going to
happen, right?
He couldn't let Louis know that he wanted all of it, it would just mean that he
had forgiven him; that he had forgotten everything.
"What do you want?" He spoke, pulling the blankets closer to his body, and not
bothering to stand up and open the door.
Louis was relieved, to say the least, that Harry at least answered him and
didn't ignore that fact that he was there.
"I want to see you," he said, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against
the door.
"I want you to-" he stopped himself, letting out a sigh, "I'm sorry."
He knew that this wasn't /all/ his fault but he would take the blame if it
meant that Harry would forget all of this.
It didn't matter to him how he was forgiven for his half of the argument, he
just wanted to be forgiven.
"I really am, Harry. I don't want to be like this with you; fighting, I mean."
Harry pursed his lips together, not really knowing what to say.
Was he supposed to let him in and forgive him like any other sane person would,
or do what's in his nature and continue to complicate things for himself and
Louis?
-I think we all know the answer, here. We all know what he is going to do.
"I'm not speaking to Louis." He stated, shifting a little on the bed, as what
looked like a mischievous grin began to curl up his lips.
"but if I were..." He continued with his sayings; that were obviously directed
to Louis and no one else. "-I'd tell him to come in to see me, just like he
wishes to do."
But of course, he did no mention of forgiveness.
Louis really couldn't help himself as he chuckled, not loud enough for Harry to
hear, though.
He lifted his head from the door and reached for the doorknob, turning it and
pushing it open just enough to poke his face through.
He let himself in, shutting the door behind him and he slowly walked over to
Harry's bed, sitting on the edge of it and staring at Harry's blanket covered
body.
"You don't have to talk to me." he said, smiling just slightly.
He didn't want to push his luck by asking Harry for anything since he was
already letting him in his room, but Louis knew that Harry had some joking in
his voice.
He wouldn't say that, though.
Harry was still smiling, but his back was turned to Louis, so there was no way
Louis could be aware of it, or was there?
"And I'm not going to..." He assured him, shaking his head a little, before
realizing he had just done it. "---I'm not going to talk to him, no." He
corrected himself, biting on his lip.
He remained silent for a few minutes, the only sound audible being their
breaths, until he finally spoke again.
"What does he want here, anyways?" He questioned, giving a lick to his lips
briefly. He shifted the position of his body on the bed, so he was facing Louis
again.
He tends to play with his lips a lot.
Louis' eyebrows quirked a bit, keeping his gaze focused on the curly haired
silhouette.
"I don't want anything special from you. I just want you to forgive me," he
stated, not minding Harry's game right now.
At least he wasn't ignoring Louis completely.
Indirectly, yes, but he was still acknowledging him.
Louis wouldn't far being up that things that Harry had been acting immature
about earlier because that would dig the situation deeper than it needed to be.
Louis scooted up on the bed and laid back, folding his hands on top of his
abdomen and staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"But you don't have to. I'll just stay sad." He puckered his bottom lip out
playfully.
Harry shook his head almost immediately, scooting even closer to Louis, bare
body still covered in blankets.
He would just have to pause his little game for a brief moment, then. Just for
a little while, before going back to playing it.
"But I don't want /my/ Lou to be sad.." He whispered.
One of his hands slowly reached out and his index finger brushed gently against
Louis' bottom lip, tracing it so elegantly and carefully. He savored the moment
as if it were a piece of delicious cake.
"If I say that you're forgiven, will you be happy again, hm?" He questioned,
directing his gaze from his lips; up to his face. "Will you be happy for me?"
Now, perhaps he should also say he's sorry for acting the way he did, but we
know he won't apologize.
Louis literally felt his heart flutter at Harry's words, his head nodding as
if, involuntarily.
He liked the sound of being called Harry's, like he belonged to him and to most
people, that isn't exactly desired.
But, he liked it.
Louis didn't mind taking one hundred percent of the blame since this is what
came out of it; Harry talking to him calmly and collectively.
"I'd be /really/ happy," he answered, looking away from Harry and smiling a bit
to himself.
"So," he started again, quickly clearing his throat as he lifted his head once
again, "that means you forgive me then, right?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders, pulling his hand back and placing it underneath
his pillow. "Sure... It could mean that; yes." He affirmed with a few nods of
his head.
But... Did that mean he would be talking to him again, or would he continue
with his little game of talking in general and not directly to Louis?
His green orbs travelled up and down Louis' face, soon going down to his torso,
but then going back up to his face. He sighed, but in the good way, one of his
long, bare legs moving to rub against one of Louis'.
"Is my Louis happy again, then?" He questioned, moving his foot in smooth
circles, his hands still under the pillow.
Louis felt a long chill travel up his leg and hips, stopping right at his
abdomen.
He didn't move his head to indicate any kind of answer, he just smiled sweetly
and for some reason, shyly.
Harry had never actually referred to Louis as 'his' but Louis definitely had no
problem with that.
"Yeah," he said, keeping his soft gaze on Harry with his head turned to his
right.
"I don't like when you're mad," he stated, turning completely so he was lying
on the side of his body with his elbow bent and his head resting in the palm of
his hand.
Harry looked at him with pursed lips, "And I don't like it when you tell me
what to do. I just... I don't like being ordered around." He explained himself,
biting on his lip once again, as soon as the words went past his lips.
Hopefully, they won't start an argument about what they like and don't like, or
anything alike to that.
Harry pulled his leg back, placing it on its original place; on top of the
other. He pulled the blankets closer to his body and fluttered his eyes shut,
"But, anyways; I'm not mad anymore. I think..."
Louis nodded his head slowly, his eyes still solidly trained on Harry's face.
"I wasn't trying to order you around, though. I really wasn't," he assured,
letting out an involuntary sigh, "I just don't want you to be distant from
everybody, that's all. I don't think it's good for you to be unsocial. But,
that's just my opinion. You can do whatever you want." He explained, making
sure that Harry knew that he wasn't trying to force anything upon him.
"I should've been more sensitive to how you felt about all of this, you know,
meeting new people an stuff."
Harry remained with his eyes closed as he listened to the younger boy speak.
There's a couple of times where he wants to speak up, and not for something
good, but he keeps his mouth shut, because he doesn't want to start to fight
again.
That's the last thing he wants, really.
"Whatever, Louis." He said, between gritted teeth, but he was not mad. Like
said before, he didn't want to fight; he's restraining himself from saying
something he isn't supposed to.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore, I don't want to talk about me. Thank
you, anyway; for apologizing and stuff, that is."
Louis shut his eyes for a few brief moments before opening them and quickly
licking both of his lips.
He contemplated on what he was going to say, not for too long though, before
finally deciding to speak.
"Harry, it's okay if you don't want to but," he paused, shifting his body a
little and incidentally scooting a bit close to Harry's, "can we, uh, just
cuddle?" He asked.
This would be the first night they hadn't actually slept in the same bed
together ever since Harry had been here, that is if Louis hadn't swallowed his
pride and came to Harry first.
Harry opened his mouth almost immediately to deny Louis' suggestion of
cuddling, but he stopped himself before the words dared to leave his mouth.
He bit on the inside of his cheek, a small, barely visible really, grimace made
its way upon his features.
He wasn't too fond of the idea, but he was going to at least give it a try.
"If..." He hesitated a little about his words, "if I say yes; that I do want to
cuddle, there won't be any cheesy moments, right?" He questioned, fingertips
fiddling with the blanket a little bit.
"I--we won't have to exchange any corny words and stuff, right?"
"Not if you don't want to," Louis answered, gently shrugging his shoulders and
moving to sit up.
"We don't have to say anything if that's what you want."
Louis scooted even closer to Harry's larger body, laying down with his head
resting on Harry's upper chest.
He knew that he was already getting more than Harry wanted to give but he would
take whatever he could.
He didn't share the same blanket with Harry, which is good I guess since it
acts as some sort of barrier between the two of them.
Harry bit on his lip a little, looking down at Louis laying on his chest. He
hadn't even agreed to cuddling, but Louis was already all over him.
He frowned, pursing his lips together, before letting a sigh go past his lips,
"I just don't want to be corny, and I don't want to talk about me either." He
stated.
He finally gave in though; to cuddling.
He swallowed thickly, before wrapping one of his long arms around Louis' petite
body and pulling him close.
"I don't want to.." He repeated the words that Louis has heard so many times
from him.
Louis nodded, taking in a deep breath. He felt content and relaxed with Harry
right now even though it was obvious that Harry felt the total opposite in the
position they were in. And Louis wouldn't blame him. They've never really ever
/cuddled/ before.
"Then we won't. We don't have to talk about anything, unless you want to."
Louis answered, his eyes focusing across the dark room on the wall opposite of
them.
He felt like he should move and not lay on Harry like this, but he was so
comfortable and satisfied with himself that he really couldn't.
Harry gave a few nods of his head as he laid there with Louis.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be with Louis, because he did; he really did.
More than anything in the world, but cuddling?
That was something he wasn't used to do, he didn't feel exactly comfortable. No
one had ever really cuddled with him before and it felt... Weird.
He didn't really like the idea of it, because he was afraid of new things. As
stupid as it sounds, it's true.
That's just his Harry's mentality works.
He bit the inside of his cheek, before closing his eyes and taking in Louis'
scent. His arms were barely even touching Louis, but they were still around
him.
Louis eyes stayed strained on the wall that he was looking at, blocking
everything out and just thinking. He thought about their entire day and all the
stupid and pointless shit that had happened, which could've been totally
avoided if Louis knew how to keep his mouth shut.
"Harry," he spoke up, his voice just loud enough not to be considered a
whisper, "we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can tell you don't
like it." He stated assuringly. He didn't want Harry to do something that he
didn't want to do, for the second time today.
Though Louis was extremely comfortable inside and out, he didn't want Harry to
be the complete opposite just because Louis was laying on him.
And honestly, it made no sense to Louis. None whatsoever.
He and Harry had had sex multiple times but when it comes to cuddling, it's
weird for Harry. But, Louis doesn't know what goes on in his head and he sure
as hell isn't going to ask.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, not answering anything to Louis' words, there was
nothing to be said. Not just yet, at least.
The sound of their breaths entered to Harry's ears as it was the only sound in
the room.
Sex and cuddling were so different for Harry, they meant different things, or
at least he liked to think they meant different things.
Sec could be done without love, feelings, no laces between the people; just for
fun, for pleasure.
And that's exactly what he wanted to think Louis and him had.
But cuddling.... Cuddling involved feelings, it meant caring for the other
person enough to spend time just /together/ and nothing else coming between
them. It meant loving each other. Harry didn't want to love Louis, he didn't
want to be attached to him by those laces, but at the same time that's exactly
what he wanted. He wanted Louis to be all his and no one else's. He wanted to
claim him as his own, just like done before, but he wanted to do it /
officially/.
He felt do messed up, his head and thoughts spun, and there was nothing he
could do about it.
He felt like screaming.
He felt like punching the wall.
Like ripping books apart.
He felt like crying.
And most importantly; he felt like kissing Louis, with /love/ and /need/.
Of course he did nothing of such, he just spoke; finally answering Louis'
words, after do much thinking he finally spoke.
"It's fine. We can do it, because... It's just laying around, eh? It can't hurt
either of us in any way. It's fine."
But it was as if he was telling himself those words.
Louis had to admit that he was relieved to hear Harry say those words though,
Harry didn't seem to sound very sure or convincing.
To Louis, this was much more than 'just laying around', which he's used to,
but.
To him, this meant so much for almost no apparent and real reason. He loved
feeling Harry. Hearing him. Kissing him. Talking to him and just being with him
all the time.
He felt like Harry already knew that. It was no secret that Louis had feelings
for the older boy, if that wasn't obvious already, but he doesn't want to bring
that up in fear of making Harry more uncomfortable or fear of Harry not feeling
the same way as him and shutting him off.
Harry loved Louis, more than anything, but that was something he refused to
accept.
He was in denial, because he had convinced himself that he didn't love anyone.
Nobody loved him, maybe his sister did, but that was it, right?
His parents didn't want him around, they were afraid of him and that's why they
put him in that institution for so many years.
Kids at school made fun of him, they said he was a freak. That he talked alone,
but they didn't understand shit.
They were just jealous of his /friend/, they were jealous, because his friend
was the best and had great ideas.
That was it.
That's what he believed, then he was taken out of school.
--Why would Louis love him if nobody else could?
Why would he be any different?
He shook his thoughts away closing his eyes and moving one of his arms under
the nape of his neck to hold his head, the other one still loosely wrapped
around Louis.
He would not think about that again. It disturbed him.
Louis was almost getting ready to shut his eyes when he heard the telephone
ring. I wasn't late, so he wasn't expecting it to be some freak or what not.
He sat up and got out of the bed, walking into the kitchen to retrieve the
landline, not recognizing the number but deciding to answer the call anyway.
"Hello?" He spoke after pressing the green button.
"Hi. Is this Louis Tomlinson?" A feminine voice On the other line questioned.
"Yes it is. Can I help you?"
"This is where Harry styles is currently living, is that correct?"
"Yeah. That's correct. May I ask who I'm speaking to?"
And the words that were uttered made Louis' body heat up and his limbs tingle.
He thickly swallowed, staying silent until he went back into Harry's room.
"Harry, it's your mother."
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     They might have fucked things up a little....
Chapter Notes
     I tried to fix the formatting to make it easier to read but the
     changes won't save! So I'm sorry about that.
It hadn't been long since they had received that inconvenient call.
It hadn't been long since Harry had remained in bed with a shocked expression
adorning his face.
But most importantly, it had not been long since he had stopped taking his
medication, just the enough amount of days to make his old self be back.
He talked alone, yes. He closed himself from Louis... Yes, but not once did he
attempt anything stupid.
'It's not the right time, you just wait' is what he would hear, "but I don't
want to hurt anybody" is what his reply would be.
Then, he would get a shut up, and he complied.
Harry's jade eyes travelled around the room cautiously, until they stopped on
Louis' petite frame.
He bit on his lip as he scanned him up and down for a few moments, "Are you
alright?" He asked, before his eyes went back down at the book he had in hands.
He wasn't so sure what the book was really about yet, he had barely started to
read it, he grabbed it from one of Louis' shelves, and he hoped the other
wouldn't mind.
He hummed lowly, "Is there like anyone out the window?" He asked again, with a
slight frown.
He wondered why Louis kept looking out, why his gaze hadn't moved from the
window and why he looked so.... Off.
Louis' stomach was doing backflips and his head was doing the exact same.
He didn't understand why Harry wasn't scared about his mother calling because
his mother knows where Harry is.
She knows that Harry is out of the institute and with somebody he's not
supposed to be with.
But what she doesn't know is /who/ he's with. No matter what, Louis was in big
trouble.
"Harry do you not realize what could happen? Your mother could tell the
institution that I lied and that she doesn't want you out among other people. I
know for a fact that they'll listen to her. You seem really calm considering
that you'll most likely have to go back into that institute and that /I'll/
probably be going to prison for illegally housing a criminal." He explained in
a rambling sort of manner. His voice started to shake near the end of his
sentences, his head repeating one thing over and over again, something that
made Louis sick: He may not ever be /allowed/ to see Harry again.
It's not that Harry didn't care about those possibilities, because he did.
He really did.
God, the only thought of not ever seeing Louis again made him feel light-
headed.
It's just that his mind's been busy with other things, to stop to think through
everything of what has happened.
"She could say anything she wanted, like she has always done and they would
still believe /her/. It's not like I can do a thing about it." He spoke, biting
on his lesser lip again and swallowing thickly. "It's not like we can get rid
of her or anything..."
He just hopes those words didn't come out as wrong as they truly are.
"Whatsoever, I'm /not/ going back into that place. I'm not, and you.. You won't
go to prison, I'm sure."
His jaw clenched, and his hands gripped the book tightly.
The thought of those things happening made him feel... Mad and somehow,
anxious.
//just calm down. she hasn't called again since then, you'll be fine. /we'll/
be fine//
He won't answer, not now.
Louis was taking in deep breaths to calm himself down. Maybe he was
overreacting about all of this? Maybe he just was thinking too much into it?
But this /was/ bad. Harry needed to see that.
"Do you not realize how serious this is, Harry? Because I don't think you do.
You flipped shit about every other thing that's happened here lately but now
that it's actually important, you act like everything is okay. This is /not/
okay!"
Alright Louis, use your inside voice.
Nothing had happened for a whole week now.
If Harry's mom cared at all about all of this, he and Harry would've been
dragged out of this apartment the day of the phone call.
"I'm sorry, I'm just really worried," he said, standing up from his spot by the
window, "I think I need to get some fresh air. You can join me if you'd like."
Louis walked out of the room and left Harry's bedroom door open.
Harry's facial expression was replaced by a deep frown.
He knew Louis was just worried, and he /understood/ the reasons why, but he
couldn't help but feel angry at the situation.
He hated when Louis yelled at him. He hated it with all he had, because when
that happened... He felt stupid, as if he was doing something wrong.
His green eyes stared at his door, as he was left 'alone' again.
Was he supposed to go after him, were they supposed to talk this through?
That was most likely the best idea. Maybe Harry should really stand up and put
aside his pride and stubbornness for a little; to think about what Louis is
feeling like.
He surely looked scared about going to jail, I mean.. He's only eighteen! He
has a future before him.
He should go and comfort him, to try to convince him that everything is going
to be okay, but just when he's about to stand up a deep voice enters his ears
crystal clear.
//don't you dare stand up, you did nothing wrong. /he/ should be the one
apologizing to you, not the other way around. He's the wrong one here. He's
exaggerating, and getting worried about things that have not happened and will
not happen any time soon. He's wrong. He's always wrong//
And Harry wants to speak up, and say those are lies, but he just nods and
remains in the room. His hands grabbing the book again.
Louis wasn't really expecting Harry to follow. He honestly didn't even /want/
him to come with.
He wasn't mad at him or anything, but he just needed to be by himself so he
could think.
'C'mon Lou. You're making this worse than it really is' he kept trying to
convince himself but it wasn't helping.
There was a chance that Harry would be taken away and that they would be forced
to keep a distance between each other and Louis doesn't even want to think
about that.
He's seen Harry every day for the past few months and all he wants is to be
around Harry.
He loves waking up next to Harry and sitting by him when they watch tv, eating
dinner next to him and falling asleep next to him.
That's how their routine is every single day.
Louis slipped on his shoes and opened the balcony door and made sure he had his
phone in his hand just in case someone called or he needed a distraction.
He sat down on one of the wicker chairs that was set on the balcony, his
stomach in knots and his mind blurry.
It wasn't that Harry's mum was okay with Harry being out of the institute or
that he was living with this stranger, that basically took him from the
institute in an illegal manner; with fake papers, name etc.
She just had to think everything over. Make sure she was taking the right
decision, because she would have honestly gone to the apartment he was in, and
she would have taken him back to the institute the same day she found out he
was gone. The very same day she called Louis, but no; instead she took her time
to think, to think of the outcomes and possibilities.
What would happen if Harry did something bad again?
After a week of writing down cons and pros, she came to the conclusion that
there were more cons than anything.
She decided that he was never going to be normal, that there was always going
to be something off with him, that society would not accept him and that he was
better off in the institute. Where they took care of him.
So here she is, making her way to the apartment where Harry is supposed to be
living in.
Several police cars are also making their way there, and a car from the
institute is right beside her.
In no time she's in front of the door, police officers beside her and the head
of the institute too.
A finger slowly pressed against the doorbell, and they wait.
Louis heard the faint ring of his doorbell, the sound making his body jump a
bit.
He stood up and walked back inside, peeking inside of Harry's room before
finishing the last few steps to the front door.
He looked through the peephole and his heart skipped a bit, obviously not in
the good manner, at what he saw just on the other side of thick wood.
He took in a deep breath and took of the chain lock, opening the door and
speaking.
"Can I help you?" He asked, the anxiety in his stomach growing deeper and
deeper.
"Are you Louis Styles?" One of the officers questioned, the expression on
Louis' face answering him.
That is the name he wrote down when he took Harry home.
Louis knew that they were on to him. They knew the truth but they just wanted
to hear it out of Louis' mouth.
"Is Harry here?" A woman, Harry's mother Louis assumed, asked.
Louis nodded, still deciding not to say anything verbally in response.
"Harry. Come here, please." He called.
Harry groaned lowly as he heard Louis call his name. His slender fingers
gripping the book tightly in between his hands.
Did he want to whine some more about how they were going to get in trouble?
Did he want to argue about how he was being so careless about this?
Harry pursed his lips together, closing the book and standing up from the bed,
"I told you already.." He started to say as he ruffled his curls a little,
making his way to where Louis was. "They are not going to-." But he wasn't even
able to finish his sentence, because as soon as he saw the police there, his
mother and Louis' expression; he was frozen. He was speechless and scared.
What was he supposed to do now?
He felt his stomach sink, he felt like throwing up or just running away like a
crazy man, but he was frozen.
His expression was dead, lips were parted a tiny bit and he had gone pale.
He thought he would never see the police again, or any of those people at the
door.
Sure, they got a visit from the institute every so often to make sure
everything was alright, but these were a lot of people.
He took a few steps back, swallowing thickly and ready to run back to his room
and lock himself there.
When Louis saw Harry enter the living room and he neared the door, the
expression on his face said everything that words couldn't.
"And I told /you/ that this would happen." He said in a loud whisper.
He turned back to look at the crowd of people outside his apartment, all of
them staring at Harry as if they couldn't believe it was him.
He was much more clean cut and nobody had ever seen him like that.
"Harry, why the hell are you here? Are you insane?" Harry's mother spoke, her
face had a look of disgust.
Louis didn't give Harry the opportunity to answer before he said something.
"Can you just tell me why /you're/ here?" He began, obvious fear in his voice,
"Are you taking him away?"
Harry was glad that Louis had answered for him, because if he hadn't... He
didn't know what he would have done.
--Of course his mother had to say that.
She had to come and call him insane, to start with the names and putting him
down.
To be disgusted and disappointed at his actions.
His thoughts were interrupted by someone speaking again.
"Indeed, Louis. We are here to take him away. We came to 'drive' him back to
the institution by his mother's orders." That was just a nice way to put
things. "We can't give you any further information, though.. You /will/ have to
come with us."
By then, Harry had his hands turned into tight fists, his jaw clenched and his
jade eyes trained on his mother.
//She always has to ruin everything for you.
Always.
She's always there to take the good things from you, Harry.
She's not good.
She's not good.//
He tried his best to ignore the voice, his eyes flickering towards the right
and making an unamused face to make it stop, before returning to the people at
the door.
It took him a few more seconds, to fully process what was said.
Only then, his expression softened and he turned to Louis in a desperate
manner.
"No.." He breathed, shaking his head and taking some more steps back, "No.
Louis, don't let them take me away. Don't let them..."
Louis was internally and silently panicking. They couldn't take Harry. Harry
was everything to Louis now, he was what made him happy.
"No. You're not taking him anywhere. He's perfectly fine here with me." He
tried to explain though he knew it was pointless. These people weren't going to
listen to him. This was serious. "He's improved. He really has. You can't lock
him up in there again! He doesn't deserve that!" His voice gradually got louder
as his eyes started to water. He moved backwards and stood by Harry's side,
wanting to hold his hand so bad. Hold onto him and never let go.
"This is all my fault. If you take him then you'll have to take me, too." He
said. He didn't want to be in trouble, which he knew he was, they both were in
trouble.
Harry's mother looked at the police officer next to her, giving him a confused
look. But that look soon turned blank. The police officer shook his head and
took a step inside the apartment. "Harry, either come willingly with us or
we'll drag you out of here. It's your choice."
Harry was starting to feel so frustrated about this whole situation, and the
police threatening to forcefully drag him out of the apartment did not help a
tiny bit. In fact, we could say it just made him panic more.
"No-No." He whispered, over and over again. "Don't touch me. Just-- /don't/
touch me. Don't get near me."
Harry glanced at Louis, who was now so incredibly close to his own body. He
could reach out for his hand, intertwine their fingers for reassurance, and
just do as the police said, but he didn't.
He merely stared, and took one last step back.
His hands were turned into tight fists, his nails digging into the skin of his
hands. He wanted to go back to this morning, or even the night before and stay
there forever.
Anything was way better than being taken away from Louis; than being interned
again in the institution.
Finally, he started to analyze Louis' words and what the police was saying. He
didn't want Louis to be taken with him.
He liked him, sure, but he didn't want him to be in trouble.
He knew what it was like to be locked at a young age, he knew what it felt like
to be alone for so long, to have nowhere else to go, and he didn't want that
for Louis.
Not after, all he's given to him. He can't do this to him.
//this is your fault. Don't try to play the hero now. This was all because of
you in the first place.//
He's ready to start banging his head against the damn wall, if that means he'll
make the voice stop for now. Just for now.
"Let me--just let me get my shoes." He whispered, barely audible. "Just my
shoes."
Louis nodded, "I'll help him get his stuff. Come on in and have a seat." He
said, taking Harry's hand and leading him to his bedroom. He didn't think it
was necessary to be nice to these people, but this was happening and he had no
control over it. He was trying the best he could to keep his emotions inside.
He didn't want to be a cry baby. He closed the door to Harry's room, leaning
his back against it and letting out a deep sigh.
"So, I guess that's it then, huh?" He asked, feeling his face turn red from not
letting any feelings out for Harry to see. "I knew this was going to happen.
God, I can never catch a break."
Louis trudged over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, folding his hands
and looking down at the carpet. "I'm sorry. I let you down again." He
apologized, feeling his voice finally crack. This /was/ all his fault. He
shouldn't have lied. This would never have happened if Louis didn't give a shit
about Harry. "You don't deserve to go back there. You really don't."
Louis' words entered Harry's ears perfectly, he could hear them crystal clear,
but they were drown away by that other voice in his head. /the/ voice.
//You deserve it. You deserve to go back there, it was about time. You deserve
it all. He is just saying that, because he feels bad for you; he pities you,
but you deserve it.//
Harry tried his best to make him stop, tried his best to stop listening to him,
but it was inevitable.
His big hands were now gripping at his curls, his eyes shut tightly. "Just--/
stop/ talking. Stop." He choked out, pulling harsher at his hair.
Now, those words weren't directed to Louis, but how was he supposed to know it
was that creepy voice in his head?
If Louis asked, he could just blame it on the anxiety of going back to the
hospital.
Harry just needed a bit of silence, maybe Louis to hold him.
Louis looked up at Harry and frowned, feeling hurt that Harry would snap at him
like that. If only Louis knew that Harry hadn't been taking his meds for months
and he couldn't stop hearing things in his head.
"I'm just trying to apologize to you. You don't have to snap at me." He said in
an obviously annoyed tone of voice. He stood up from the bed, wanting to walk
out of the room but he couldn't. He just /couldn't/ leave Harry right now. This
was most likely the last time he would ever see Harry and just the mere thought
of that made him want to burst into tears; hug Harry and never let go of him.
He'd just grown so fond of Harry. He shouldn't have, but he did and there was
nothing he could do about it. And Louis just stood there, looking down at the
floor. Harry obviously didn't want to talk and Louis didn't couldn't blame him.
"Let's just get you packed so they're not waiting. They'll drag you out and I
don't think you want that."
Louis walked over to Harry and immediately sat down on the floor next to him.
He looked over at Harry, his eyes finally letting go and starting to water. He
didn't want to be a baby, he wanted to keep everything in for Harry. He thought
that maybe, if he was strong, Harry would be as well even though Harry hadn't
shown any sign of anger or sadness.
Harry slowly started to let go off his hair, it seemed as if Louis' words had
killed the voice away. As if he had scared it away, and Harry was grateful for
it. He looked at Louis giving a few nods of his head, but not saying anything
in reply. He looked around the room briefly, making sure it was just Louis and
him, because sometimes not only did he hear it, but he also /saw/ the owner of
that so called voice. He let a small sigh go past his lips as he finally walked
to his closet to get a pair of shoes out. He sat on the floor and stared at
them a little, before he finally started to put them on. He thought back to how
the first time they had taken him away from Louis it had been in only his
boxers and a bleeding head. He thought about how he and Louis had kissed with
the glass of the car's window between them. He glanced at Louis one last time,
he felt so.. Numb, and helpless. He would never see Louis again, right? "Can
you kiss me..?" He whispered, "And just... Hold me." He added, under his
breath. "I can do that," he said, spinning a bit to have better access to
Harry. He leaned in, his lips connecting to Harry's very gently. He wanted to
savor the last moment they had to be this close to each other. His hands were
placed firmly on Harry's knees, giving him more leverage.
Harry's eyes closed as soon as Louis' thin lips were pressed against his own.
He kept the kiss slow, and in control, not wanting it to end any time soon.
He wanted it to last forever, or just enough time until the point where the
people outside the room would get tired and leave, but that was not going to
happen and he knew it, he just didn't want to accept it.
His hand moved up to cup Louis' cheek, rubbing smooth circles with his thumb
for a few seconds, before he stopped and started to squeeze lightly, not hard
enough to hurt, though.
In all honesty, Harry was actually frustrated about this, he was angry,
furious; with his mom, of course. --but he just wanted to enjoy his last
moments with Louis before going out to 'confront' all those people out there.
He moved his lips easily, as if this was something he was used to do for his
whole life, taking in his taste.
Louis was debating on whether he should say what he wanted to say or not. His
eyes also fell shut, letting their lips move together almost perfectly. He's
wanted to say it out loud for so long. For months, he wanted to tell Harry that
he loved him but he ways felt like he would fuck everything up. Maybe they've
said it to each other before, but Louis never felt like Harry meant it and
Louis never felt like /he/ meant it. It wouldn't be long before Harry's mom and
those cops would come looking for them, telling them that they've waited long
enough.
Louis pulled away from Harry's lips only a few inches or so, looking down at
Harry's mouth to see that it was a light shade of red now, from the contact.
"Harry before you leave, I- I want to tell you something. I /need/ to tell
you." He started, giving Harry's knees a gentle squeeze before speaking again,
"I love you."
Harry felt a slight chill go up his body as Louis squeezed his knees. At his
words, though.. He felt his heartbeat race up, quite abnormally.
He could feel his cheeks heating up, but he wasn't sure if they were actually
tinting. He hoped not.
He gulped, parting his lips to verbalize words, some kind of reply, but nothing
came out. He closed it again and looked down, his face still close to Louis'.
His hand slowly slid down to his shoulder, resting it there loosely.
"Don't do this to me..." Harry choked out, closing his eyes tightly.
"Don't say that.. Don't make me feel this way if we aren't seeing each other
again. Please don't..." He could feel his voice cracking now, as much as he
wanted to man up, like he always managed, as much as he wanted to seem
powerful, just /strong/ in front of Louis, he couldn't help it.
"I don't want to feel lonely and empty again, Lou. I don't want to miss hearing
those words.. Better not hearing them at all, than hearing them once and not
ever again."
Louis' eyes were watering now, just seeing Harry start to fall apart right in
front of him well, that was too much for him.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I really just needed you to know that. I couldn't let you
let you leave without telling you." He explained.
Louis ducked down to catch Harry's lips again for another sweet, meaningful
kiss, pulling away once he felt that they had been away too long.
"Come on, we can't stall any longer." He said, pushing himself up and stuffing
a few things of Harry's into a duffel bag; in other words, what they should've
been doing all along.
-
"We don't have time for this. Who knows what they're doing in there?" Harry's
mother said impatiently, her fingers tapping on the armrest of the couch.
"I'll go get Harry. We have other things to do." She added, standing up and
walking down the hallway to the room Louis and Harry had disappeared into.
She knocked once before just walking in, standing in the doorway.
"Harry, let's go. We've waited long enough."
Harry looked up at her from where he was sitting. He had not moved from the
spot on the floor, eyes only moving when Louis moved.
There was no emotion in his eyes, there was no expression on his face. There
was nothing decipherable about his feelings and emotions, that is, until his
green eyes caught a glimpse of who was behind her.
Of course, the person there did not exist, and no one in the room could see or
hear him, only Harry.
//Harry, let's go. We've waited long enough.// the voice mocked, making faces
and standing just like Harry's mother was standing.
Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his mouth, a dimpled smile
brightening his face. He looked down at his hands and shook his head a little,
"Good one." He muttered, barely audible.
He stood up from the floor, still smiling. He approached Louis, grabbed his
hand and walked out of the room, but not without bumping his shoulder with
Anne's.
Louis clutched tightly onto Harry's hand, holding onto the bag that he had
packed for Harry so he had clothes, not that the institute would let him wear
them anyway.
He really didn't want Harry to leave. He couldn't believe that he was letting
him go without a fight but who was going to win; between Louis and the law? I
think it's quite obvious what the outcome of that would be.
"Alright, Harry. We really have to go, now." The police officer said while Anne
came from the hallway and stood impatiently by the front door, ready to leave.
She didn't care about Harry. Louis knew that. She just wanted him back in
prison so he could be miserable.
Louis turned to Harry, still holding his hand and he held the bag out for Harry
to take in his other hand.
"Your mom is such a bitch," he whispered so only Harry could hear him, his eyes
still slightly watery from before. "But, I guess I'll just have to stick to
visiting you from now on."
"If that..." Harry whispered, hanging the bag from one of his shoulders, he
just didn't think they'd allow Louis to visit him, and if they did... He knew
his mother would do anything to stop it, plus Louis still had to solve his own
problems with the law.
He looked down at Louis with a smile. "Wish you had said it loud enough for her
to hear, though.." He whispered with an amused smile. His grip in Louis' hand
tightened as one of the guards approached him, with hesitance he looked in side
Harry's bag, "Just making sure there's nothing.... Harmful." The guard let
Louis know, giving a nod of his head, he walked away.
Two other guards stood behind them and motioned for them to start walking out
of the apartment.
The whole time, Harry's mother stared at them with indifference. She looked
annoyed, as if she was wasting her time on this, but still wanted to do it.
Harry let a sigh go past his lips as he leaned down to press a kiss to the top
of Louis' head and finally started walking, never letting go off his hand.
Louis had a small smile on his face when Harry's lips touched his forehead,
rubbing the outside of Harry's hand with the pad of his thumb. He followed
everybody while staying close to Harry's side, not wanting to have to say
goodbye to the boy he had sickeningly fallen in love with over the course of a
few months.
Louis just didn't understand.
Why did Anne want Harry to suffer in an institute for the rest of his life
instead of being with somebody who actually cared about him, not just treating
him like a child? Harry was a good person. Louis had come to realize that the
first few times he went to visit Harry while he was still locked up. He didn't
deserve this and he wanted Anne to be aware of that.
All of them exited the apartment building and made their way over to the cop
car which was parked next to Anne's vehicle. Louis immediately looked at Harry
with some pity but mostly with sorrow for letting him down, again.
"Come on, let go of his hand. We have to go." Anne demanded, grabbing Harry and
Louis' hands, forcefully pulling them apart.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Harry exclaimed, a deep frown taking over
his features. He just couldn't believe that his mother actually dared to do
that. He couldn't stand her touching Louis, /his/ Louis; the one he was only
allowed to touch.
He lost all his patience with her, he lost all the calm and serene self he had
been acting like since the cops got to the apartment, because of /her/.
"Are you out of your mind?!" He asked, something that was so damn ironic. No
one put thought into it though, at least Harry didn't notice anyone commenting
or anything.
Of course, Anne would have said something. She would have insulted him, said
something back or just try to make him feel low like she did when he was
younger, but she remained quiet. She couldn't do that in front of the cops, in
front of Harry's doctors or any of these authorities.
Harry looked down at his hand, the nail marks of when she forced their hands
apart being crystal clear. He clenched his jaw, furious eyes returning to her.
He couldn't bring actual words out of his mouth, without threatening her,
without insulting her or any of the sorts. He simply took a few steps forward,
tall figure towering over her in a rather intimidating way.
Louis was definitely scared right now. He knows how to calm Harry down and how
to make his temper be under control and nobody in the institute knew how to
handle Harry like Louis did. "Harry, just take it easy." He said, walking
towards Harry and Anne slowly so he didn't make Harry even angrier, if that was
possible. "You're going to make it worse than it already is, just let it go."
He tried to console the older male.
Anne was looking up at Harry with wide eyes, confused on why he had gotten so
upset about something so small. "What? Are you like his owner? Does he belong
to you?"
Harry looked at her, slight confusion flashing through his face, before the
anger was back. It was as if Louis wasn't there at all. "What the fuck do you
mean by that?" He spat, but before he could hear her answer, he was listening
to someone else.
//I think she means that if you have some kind of power over him... That if you
can somewhat control who he's with, what he does... ---What she said 'if you
own him' ;; if he's yours.//
Harry frowned even deeper at what the voice in his head said, of course he
owned Louis. Didn't he? Hadn't he stated it plenty of times before and not even
once was it denied? In fact, Louis had agreed, he had said so himself. That he
was his and only his, of course... That's when they were in bed, but he paid no
mind.
The cops just stared, ready to 'jump' over Harry if he attempted anything
violent.
Anne was doing this on purpose, she wanted to provoke him, and she was
obviously succeeding.
"So, do you own him? Is he all /yours/?" She insisted, her finger pressing
against Harry's chest to give a small, 'innocent' push.
Harry clenched his jaw, hands turned into tight fists, "So what if I do, hm?
It's none of your fucking business." He growled, taking yet another step
closer, big hands pushing her finger away rather rudely.
Louis was just watching, now. What the hell was he supposed to do right now? He
only wanted to keep Harry out of trouble and he didn't care if Anne got
pummeled into the ground.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Both of you? Are you guys in a relationship?
With a rapist, Louis? Fucking disgusting. I think you're the one who needs
help." She said angrily, pointing her witchlike finger towards Louis who, was
just listening to her and taking it all in. She was right. This was all fucked
up. Every last detail of his and Harry's life for the last few months is
nothing less than inappropriate and weird. But Louis was in love and really
couldn't care less.
"Why are you doing this, Anne? What, because you have nobody to go visit in
jail to make them feel like shit? Tell them how much they deserve to be in
there and that you hope they rot? Yeah, Harry tells me things. He's told me
everything about you. Why can't you just accept the fact that he's a good
person but, he just got a little mixed up? Is it such a crime that I wanted to
give him a home? I love him now more than you ever could. What mother would
want their child in prison?" Louis ranted, stepping closer to Anne with pure
determination and anger in his tone.
Harry in the other hand, stepped back. Her words kept repeating over and over
again inside his head. He couldn't make it stop, as much as he tried it kept
sounding.
//with a fucking rapist? With a fucking rapist?
rapist. rapist.rapist. rapist.// it was a never ending melody, a horrible
melody. //fucking disgusting.
Fucking disgusting
FUCKING DISGUSTING
D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G//
By then, his knuckles were white as he tugged horribly at his hair. His face
red in anger and eyes tightly closed as he tried to make it go away.
He was on the verge of tears of frustration, about to actually rip his hair
out, but he stopped. He suddenly stopped his actions, and his full of rage,
green eyes landed on the woman that liked to say she was his mother when it was
convenient, like now.
That's when the doctors, the cops reacted, but not fast enough to stop him from
his doings.
Anne was obviously too distracted arguing with Louis to see it coming. It was
completely obvious by her expression when she was tackled to the hard concrete
by Harry's tall figure. His slender fingers pulled at her hair to keep her
down, his free hand wrapping around her neck, but he wasn't hurting her, not
enough to actually kill her.
"/You/ are disgusting! /You/ are the one that's out of her mind, the one that
needs help!" He practically screamed, just mere centimeters away from her face.
"You have never loved me, and never will, but that's okay because I don't feel
anything for you either, nothing other than disgust, hate; I FUCKING LOATHE
YOU." With that, his grip tightened on her hair and neck. "In the other hand, I
/love him/. More than I have ever loved anything or anyone before. Do you hear
that? I LOVE LOUIS!" He exclaimed right into her ear.
He was in so much more trouble now, he was sure of that, but he didn't care
anymore.
Louis' hands were covering over his mouth, tears slipping from his eyes and
down his cheeks to drip off of his chin.
That was it.
The thing he's been wanting to hear for a long time. He had to admit, when he
had told Harry earlier in the day that he loved him, he was sort of
disappointed when he didn't hear it back but, he wasn't going to bring any of
that up. Not now. He couldn't; it just didn't seem appropriate. He knew it was
quite a big step for Harry since he had never been with anybody else long
enough to fall in love.
And now, they were both in even more trouble.
Because Harry couldn't control himself, he was going to suffer even more than
he was before. He knew he couldn't get Harry off of Anne so he didn't even
attempt to.
"Alright, that's enough!" One of the cops said, running over to Harry and
basically ripping him off of his mother while the other cop quickly took out a
pair of handcuffs and secured Harry's hands tightly behind his back. "You
really fucked up, now, Styles."
Louis shook his head walking cautiously over to Harry without giving Anne even
a look to make sure she was okay because frankly, he couldn't care less.
Harry was put into the cop car while both of the policemen went to help Anne
up.
Louis went to the car whose door was still open with Harry just sitting there,
restrained.
Louis didn't even know what to say right now. What was he supposed to say? This
was bad. Everything about this was bad and Harry's actions didn't help one bit.
"Wow," Louis said, his voice cracking from being upset, "we're really fucked
aren't we?" He asked.
He knew he would be doing time as well as Harry. He wasn't just going to be let
off the hook for defying the law to house a criminal.
An ironic laugh fell from Harry's pink lips, head shaking to the sides a tiny
bit, "We have always been, Louis.. Always." He murmured under his breath, his
green eyes fixed on his shoes as he talked.
He knew this wasn't going to last forever, that sometime, someone would come
and would ruin it, you know... His happiness, his love for Louis would be
shattered and buried in the underground by someone.
That they would be separated by metallic bars again, he knew he was going to be
surrounded by white walls, white sheets, and white clothes again.
"I just ---- Louis, we both knew this was not going to last forever, you and
me; that was never going to happen. You knew it, and don't try to deny it." A
lump was starting to grow in his throat, voice cracking a little as he
continued to speak.
"Oh fuck, please don't think I'm being ungrateful or something, because I'm
really not ;; I appreciate all you've done for me. You have made me so happy,
the happiest I've ever been in my life to be honest, but.... But..." He can't
continue talking, he simply shifted a little in his place, handcuffs clinking a
little.
"Just know that I love you, yeah?" He breathed out, taking in a deep breath.
"Try your best to get out of this, blame it on me if you want, say I threatened
you into it, but don't let them lock you like they do with me. You don't
deserve it. Please don't let them. Promise me." He said, turning to look at him
in the eyes.
Louis tried not to cry more but Harry's words were basically stabbing him right
where it mattered most, his heart thumping as if it were about to break out of
his chest.
"I was hoping this would last," he said, the blue in his eyes even brighter and
more vibrant form the irritation of his tears.
He couldn't let this be it. This couldn't be the end.
"This isn't it Harry. I didn't go through all of this shit to say goodbye to
you. And I'm not going to put more weight on your case by blaming you. This is
just as much my fault as it is yours." He explained, his voice still
occasionally cracking and running out.
A single cop approached the car and told Louis to back off while the other cop
helped Anne to her car and watched as she drove away. Louis stood back a few
feet as the door was shut so it was a barrier between him and Harry, resuming
his previous distance while hunching over to peek through the lightly tinted
glass.
"I'm not letting you go. I'll think of something." He said, hoping Harry could
hear him clear enough. The cops got into the car and started up the engine,
Louis quickly pressing his lips to the window and felt a sudden rush a déjà vu,
pulling away and wiping his face once more.
He knew someone would be coming back for him so he could receive punishment for
his actions, and he was prepared for that.
Harry just shook his head for himself, a silent sob erupting from his mouth as
they drove away from the apartment.
This was horrible, he couldn't handle it. Back there, he was trying to be
strong for Louis, in the best way he could; he didn't cry, he didn't freak out
as bad, he even thought about an idea to get Louis less time behind bars, but
now.. He couldn't keep it in any longer.
His heart was beating fast, and he just felt as if it was being ripped off his
chest, as if it was being squeezed so hard and burned.
He rubbed his face on his shoulders and kept his gaze down, he did not speak,
he did not look back in hope to see Louis. He simply looked down and listened
to the things /the voice/ had to say without arguing or commenting.
That's how it was going to be from now on, right? He would listen, they would
talk and he would not argue about it even if he wasn't okay with it.
Louis just turned and went into his apartment when the police car was
completely out of his view.
He wanted to be in that car /with/ Harry. Louis deserved to be punished just as
much as Harry did.
He definitely wasn't innocent in this situation.
He walked back inside and went up to his room, this being the first time in
months that he was in that apartment by himself.
No one was there to greet him or start a stupid, pointless argument that would
soon be forgotten and they would cuddle in bed together.
He plopped right down on the couch, leaving the room silent and not even
bothering to turn the tv on. His pulled his knees to his chest and just stared
down at the floor. What was he supposed to do now?
He knew he was in trouble and he knew that somebody would come for him and take
him to jail and he would most likely never be allowed to see Harry again.
Harry's words kept replaying in his head; 'this was not going to last forever'
and it made Louis feel sort of lightheaded. He didn't want Harry to end up as
just some guy that he was with for a while. He knew that Harry was the person
he was meant to be with.
And if it was under different circumstances, they would still be together.
***** chapter 6 *****
Chapter Summary
     harry's father tries to make it up to him with all he's got
Chapter Notes
     unfortunately, some personal stuff has happened to the co-author, and
     they can no longer write this story. so it's just me, dani, who will
     be writing it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The day was rather cold, it shouldn't be like this, I mean... Considering the
season they're in, it shouldn't be almost raining. It was windy and the leaves
brushed against one another, just like Harry loved the weather to be. If only
he could presence that, he would feel much better, emotionally speaking ;; it
would relax him a lot, it would make the tension and worry go away for at least
a little while.
It had been a couple of hours since he was taken back to the institution by his
mother's orders and of course, the doctors' support.
Louis had gotten arrested, or so he he thought. He wasn't so sure of what had
happened with him, and he was worried. He wanted to see him, and he had made
them all know that, maybe not in the best manner, but still; it was as if his
words went through one ear and came out through the other, because no one
answered his questions about where he was, or when he was going to see him
again.
Only stupid I don't know's and don't worry about that were uttered back at him.
However, Louis was currently sat in a silent room with only plain, white walls,
a toilet, a sink and a bed.
There were bars in the front of the room where he could see across to another
cell of someone he didn't know and had no intentions to get to know.
He didn't belong in here. This wasn't fair.
He was only trying to take care of Harry and show him that he loved him.
But that wasn't acceptable to anyone else, obviously. It was so frustrating
that no matter how hard Louis tried to do the right and loving thing, it was
always shoved back to his face.
He and Harry were in two totally different facilities, about fifteen miles
between the two of them.
It's sad, Louis' only been here for a single night and he ready feels nauseous
without having Harry right by his side. And it's also not good that Louis has
grown so dependent on Harry to provide him with happiness, but he was in love
and there was nothing wrong with that, right?
One of the only things that got him through the night and half of the morning
was the fact that just the day before, Harry actually said that he loved Louis.
Just knowing that made butterflies flutter in the pit of the younger boy's
stomach.
Harry's mind was constantly being filled with images of Louis being his cute
self, or just random memories of the moments they shared when they were back in
the apartment. His mind wasn't just Louis though.
Sadly, that voice in his head was still present, due to the lack of medicine in
his body.
The voice would talk to him about future plans, or would comment about what
kind of things he should say if the doctors asked about this or that;; just
giving him tips to not get caught about anything.
His slender fingers tapped against the fabric of his pants as he stared at the
plain, white walls surrounding him. That's what it was gonna be from now on if
he didn't get out of here; white, silent and plain, but mostly... Lonely. The
voice didn't count as company. Not the one he wanted, at least. 
He swallowed thickly as he shifted a little bit in the place he was resting on,
it wasn't going to be long for someone to walk in, and attempt to provide him
that white pill he's gonna have to swallow for the rest of his life. He doesn't
understand why he needs it, there's nothing wrong with him, or is there?
Louis was nervous.
Just sitting in this room was making him want to tear his hair out which, for
the record, nobody would care about.
How could Harry's mother want him to be in here? If she could experience this;
the unfathomable silence and loneliness, the blandness and the overwhelming
feeling of never seeing light again... It's awful.
But Louis was overreacting. He couldn't be in here for too long, right? I mean,
he didn't murder anyone. Nobody was hurt by him and all he was trying to do was
be with Harry; the person he loved.
Soon, it would be time for them to have their free hour in the courtyard and
for Louis to get some fresh air to think, hoping that Harry was okay and he
wasn't losing hope.
Louis knew that there was a big chance of never being able to see Harry again
but he didn't want to think about that. It pained him whenever that went
through his mind. He hadn't put himself through all of this just to come out on
the other side with nothing and no one.
On the other hand, Anne didn't feel guilty at all. In fact, she felt relieved,
because in her head she was doing Harry a favor. She was doing society a favor
by locking away the dangerous psycho  for good.
Of course, she was going to have to do some paper work, talk with cops and
doctors, because she was not going to just let go the fact that this kid, Louis
actually managed to get Harry out of the institution without her permission or
without the cops noticing he wasn't even part of the family; that he was the
kid Harry had raped two years ago in his own room!
She didn't understand how they had let that one go by, how could they?
She was determined to figure everything out, and make whoever allowed this to
happen, and of course the one that provoked it --also known as Louis Tomlinson,
pay for what they did.
Now, what happens to Harry's father? What's his opinion on this? What is he
going to do or say?
Louis was now sitting outside at a vacant picnic table, all by himself.
He didn't belong here. He wasn't a murderer or a child molester or a thief. He
didn't do anything wrong, really. But Anne just wanted him and Harry to suffer
and never be allowed to see each other again. She didn't want them to be
happy. 
~.
Harry's father, Des, was the first person they called after Harry was arrested
for his first offense. To be honest, he had known for a while that something
just wasn't right with Harry. He wasn't like the other kids who were always at
the park or playing video games. He just kept to himself and tried to be as
secluded as possible. But what Des didn't know was how Anne treated him behind
closed doors. Harry's sister, Gemma, was the favorite and Anne never gave Harry
the attention he needed. So after Harry was convicted, Des knew that it had
something to do with the verbal and occasional physical abuse Harry received
from Anne on a daily basis.
Shortly after Harry's arrest, he and Anne divorced because all Anne would talk
about is how much she hated Harry and how much she hoped he rotted in jail. Des
couldn't stand it because, well, that's his son that she was talking about and
it just wasn't worth it.
He knew that Harry deserved to be treated better than he was, even if Anne
bluntly disagreed.
It was because of her that he looked for attention from other people, even if
he didn't get it, he just /took/ it. He was raised thinking that violence was
okay and, obviously, it's not.
~.
Louis was gathered by the rest of his peers after an hour and he was taken back
to his cell until it was time for dinner and then lights out.
But, it was then that he got a strange notification about someone being there
to see him. Was it his parents? What was he supposed to say if it was them?
Would they understand?
Des sat on a chair inside a plain, semi-white room. A light hovering over his
head and security guards at the doors.
As soon as he had been informed of what happened with Harry earlier with his
mother and this boy called Louis taking Harry out of the institution for around
a month or so. He decided to take over the situation. This was all too crazy,
but he could handle it, he is sure of it.
His attention was soon directed towards the door, as some policemen opened it
and brought Louis in with them.
Des looked at him and shoot a friendly smile, simply because he didn't want to
scare him with a serious face, he wanted to reassure him. His face then went
back to normal, because he would seem just creepy, seeing as the boy didn't
know who he was.
The older man adjusted himself on the chair as the guards sat Louis before him,
he cleared his throat, loosened his tie a little bit, and proceeded to talk.
"Hello, Louis. I know you may be wondering who I am. Well, my name is Des. I'm
Harry's father." He informed, and waited for the younger boy to say something,
to start asking the questions he had the answers to, at least to most of them.
Louis was definitely confused, that's for sure. He was confused on how Des knew
about him. How he found out where he was and mostly, he was confused about why
he was here. And in the back of his mind, of course, his thoughts were buzzing
about Harry; wondering how he was doing and just hoping that he didn't get
himself into even deeper trouble.
"Well, you obviously know who I am, Des, " he began, relieved that he wasn't
required to wear cuffs in this facility because he wasn't a physical threat to
anyone, "What exactly did Anne say to you?" he asked with genuine curiosity. He
was certain that the bitch had told him about Harry and him. He was sure she
would've changed the story and made both sound like total monsters.
Des looked at him and proceeded to answer, surely, he was only gonna give the
short version. "Well, she mentioned something about this boy kidnapping her son
for quite a few weeks, and keeping him from his medication." He started to say,
that obviously meant that the doctors at the institution had found out about
the lack of medicine in Harry's body and told Anne. "Then something else about
Harry raping this so called boy, as well as brutally attempting to murder her
when she tried to help him." His voice was calm, mostly because he was used to
treating this stuff over the years, I mean, stuff like this happened a lot with
Harry.
Des then shook his head gently, before gesturing with his hand towards Louis,
"Is that the truth?" He asked, he had learned within the years that Anne always
exaggerated things. "Or do you have a different version?"
Louis couldn't help but let out an amused laugh at Des' words, almost unable to
believe that Anne would fuck the story up so bad. But since he actually has met
her and seen how she behaves, her version of the story sounds about right.
"I'm the boy that Harry tried to rape, almost three years ago, but it didn't
exactly go how he wanted. I was sixteen at the time..." he explained, clearing
his throat before continuing, "When I turned eighteen, I came to see Harry and
I visited him quote frequently. After a few weeks, he was allowed to be
quartered so I lied and said that I was his brother. He came to live with me
and then Anne found out, and forced him back to the Institute." he finished,
crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.
"Anne is a crazy bitch, ya know that?"
Des listened all throughout the story Louis was telling him, he wondered what
Louis meant with 'it didn't go like he wanted'.
A small laugh escaped from his mouth at Louis' last words. He couldn't really
help it, he knew that, it was one of the reasons why they had divorced in the
first place.
"Is that so?" He questioned, slightly amused, before shaking his head slowly,
"She just, she doesn't quite understand Harry, or this situation, Louis." He
clarified, though he knew it was no justification for her actions.
"She has never really /tried/ to understand him either, but yeah..."
Louis nodded and sat up in his chair so he wouldn't be slouching.
Anne was insane, whether Des thought that was the proper term or not didn't
matter. And all the while, Louis is still thinking solely about Harry.
Wondering what he's doing right now; if he's been behaving or not, if he's been
eating, if he's been talking to anyone... And the only reason Louis was
concerned was because when he was depressed at Louis' place, that's what would
happen: loss of appetite and silent treatment.
"I don't mean to be rude or anything, Des, but, why are you here exactly?" he
questioned, quirking one eyebrow up.
Des was not surprised by Louis' question, in fact, he understood why he was
being kind of harsh, and he didn't exactly mind. I mean, Harry was so much
worse than Louis .
"Alright, straight to the point." He said, starting to grab some papers from
his bag and straighten them on the table.
"I am not sure if Harry commented you about me being a lawyer, mostly the
reason why he got out of a lot, and worse trouble than he is." He explained, "-
--and, you know how Anne told me a story about what happened, well.. I wanted
to make sure about it, before proceeding to do anything with Harry, so I went
to the police station, and the Institution to gather information and finally
asked to talk to Harry.. And after hard work.. He told me /some/ stuff only to
end up, somehow convincing me to take you out;; so here I am."
Louis wanted a moment, taking in everything that Des had just said.
"So, you're here to get me out?" he asked, looking for confirmation. None of
this made any sense to Louis. He and Des had never even met before but now he's
willing to get Louis out of jail for being involved with his convict son. It's
all just a little surreal if you asked him.
"I mean, you're getting Harry out, too, right?" he asked, feeling himself
starting to get all protective over Harry, "Because, I'd rather stay in here by
myself than be free by myself."
And a sigh went past Des' lips at the boy's words, he knew this was gonna
happen; him asking about Harry getting out, too. Asking about him, overall, and
he didn't blame him.
"I'm gonna get him out, yes." Or at least try with all his guts to do so,
because it is his son he's talking about.
To be honest, Des didn't want to do this at first, because Louis had exposed
society to a murderer and raper, fooled a well known institution, but somehow..
Also fooled him and his family for weeks!
All that time, he thought Harry was being taken care of by professionals, but
no.. Instead he was with a young adult, he once raped in his teenage years!
But after all the things Harry said.. He changed his mind, Harry was right. It
wasn't Louis' fault. He didn't belong with murderers, he didn't belong in jail.
"However, we are here to talk about you for now."
Louis nodded his head in understanding. He didn't know Des at all and he didn't
want to anger him by talking about Harry too much, if he didn't want to hear
about him, that is.
"Well, alright," he said calmly and slightly monotonous. Louis understood the
fact that Des was a lawyer but it still didn't seem that easy to get a convict
out of prison basically at the snap of his fingers. But he wasn't complaining
and he wouldn't question the law and its procedures. "So, do I have to do
anything or is it all in your hands?" he asked, shrugging.
"You see.." Des began to say, looking down at the papers. "There's a couple of
things that still aren't clear to me." He stated, "And I would rather know
everything that's got to do with the case so I can control it better, you know?
To not be taken by surprise with things I don't know, and have no material to
defend you with." He looked up at the young male, "All you have to do is
explain me what you think is relevant to what you did, and after that..
Everything is in my hands." He assured him.
Louis nodded his head, not answering right away. This was beyond awkward to
explain to someone, let alone Harry's father. "I'll just start all the way at
the beginning, I guess." he stated, getting a little more comfortable in his
chair before he began again, "Here's the short version: when I was sixteen,
Harry broke into my house. He tried to rape me, it didn't work, I called the
police, blah blah blah. I came and visited him a few times when I turned
eighteen, promised I'd get him out of the Institute. So, I told the Institute
that I was his brother and I signed him out. A week later he was living with me
in my apartment. A few months later, Anne found out and, being the bitch that
she is, she called the police and here we are." he finished, letting out a sigh
of relief, happy that he was finally able to get his history out of his head in
case he would never see Harry again. But everything was seeming to turn around
now.
"I took him in because I knew that he didn't deserve to be I here and I know at
sounds ridiculous but, nobody else has seen what I have seen in him. I knew he
was just hurting. I still don't know what he's hurting from but I was trying to
find out. Is there anything you think it could be?"
Des rubbed his face with both of his hands, letting a sigh go past his lips. He
knew, he had an idea or at least had part of the story that had made him hurt.
It was all deep and dark family secrets.
He nodded his head nonetheless, moving his hands away from his face to look at
the young teenager, "Yeah... You might know it all has to do with his mother.
It's all about his past..." He bit on his lip, "All about his childhood." He
finally told him.
He figured that if he didn't know, it was because Harry hadn't told him and if
he hadn't told him, it must've been because he had his reasons, and he didn't
want to intrude in there. "I think it's best if he tells you.." He stated. "And
for that we have to get you out of here, so let's get to that yeah?"
He began to gather all his things, before standing up and looking at him "I'll
go see some people, and see what I can to get you out of here. I'll come back
soon with possibilities, alright?"
Louis nodded, his stomach twisting and knotting. He nervous now. He was nervous
period, but now, it was worse. He needed to know what happened to Harry. But he
didn't know if asking was the right thing to do. I mean, if Harry wanted him to
know, he would've told him, right? He figured that he would worry about all of
that when it came up for real. "Alright," he said, standing up himself and
taking in a deep breath, "I'll be waiting."
-
Des left and Louis was escorted back to his room, immediately taking position
on his uncomfortably stiff bed and trying his best to drift off for a while.
All he thought about was Harry. He even dreamed about him. It wasn't healthy,
he knew that, but there was really nothing he could do about it now.
He's too involved now.
Harry wasn't doing any good back at the institution, at first, he was trying to
behave, to take whatever they gave him and act just normal, but only to see if
they would allow him to see Louis soon. But it had been days now, and they
wouldn't tell him anything about the feathery haired male, so he lost it.
He thought he was never gonna see him again, plus.. His father hadn't come back
with anything about getting Louis out like he had told him to do, he must've
just ignored him, hadn't he?
So, in protest he started to refuse to eat what they gave him, he started to
remain quiet in his room, not wanting to see anyone unless it was Louis, but of
course, that wasn't happening, not now.
It was as if all his progress had turned into shit. He was back at talking
alone, but not because he heard something (he was taking his meds, at least)
but because he /wanted/ to hear something from the voice.
-
He remained sat on his bed when the nurse came into his room, legs in a
crisscrossed position and green eyes focused on the white wall before him.
"Harry, there's someone here to visit you.." She said, but he didn't move.
"Him?" Was all he asked.
The nurse sort of frowned. "No, Harry, not Louis. But someone that may help you
see him again," she said. This was Harry's nurse from before. She was the only
one that actually cared about Harry and listened to what he had to say. And she
knew all about Louis.
"Mr. Styles, he's right in here." she instructed, moving aside so Des could
enter Harry's room. As long as she stayed there, he didn't need to be cuffed.
Des, looked at Harry. He had seen him earlier, yes, but it was still hard to
believe that it was his son in here. His son was a criminal. But he knew what
had gone wrong. So he wouldn't blame it all on Harry.
"Hello, son." Des greeted, walking into the room and standing before Harry.
"It's looking a lot better for you and Louis than I thought it would. But
there's still a lot to be done before you can leave. And that includes
contracts, random check ups and, unfortunately, consent from both parents."
"You..." Harry started to say, green orbs looking at his father. "You went to
see him?" He questioned, tone of voice and expression going soft at the mere
thought of the other boy. He just wanted to see him, he wanted to hug him and
hear the sweet little things Louis always said to him.
At his father's words though, he frowned. His whole expression changing to the
complete opposite, eyes going angry, nails digging into his hands and gaze
fixed on the white wall again, you could only imagine what was going through
his mind.
"Then I'm not getting the fuck out of here." He stated as a matter of fact,
voice angry and cold, kind of sad too. He knew his mom wasn't going to agree,
there was no use.
He clenched his jaw, nails digging deeper into his skin, "/but/ you're getting
Louis out, right??" He asked, "He's not like me, he isn't supposed to be there.
You're getting him out, /right/?"
Des knew that Harry would react like this. Anne wasn't going to let him come
out without a fight. But, something inside of his him said, 'well, she doesn't
care about him, so maybe she doesn't care about what happens to him.'
Des stayed a good distance away from Harry, not because he thought he would
hurt him but just because Harry never really allowed anyone to come close to
him when he was younger so, he figured that he hadn't changed much.
"Harry, don't give up hope. I'm going to try and convince your mother to let
you out. You never know, she may have a change of heart." he tried to console,
shrugging his shoulders and keeping his voice happy to try and sound
optimistic.
"But you should know that he said he doesn't want to be out without you. So if
you don't get released, he'll refuse to leave." he added,his eyebrows dropping
as he listened to his own words. It was strange, yes, but, it seemed like Louis
really loved Harry and well, who was he to keep them apart?
Harry's attention returned to his father, green eyes trained on him so intently
as he listened, of course Louis was gonna say that. Harry shook his head
though, "No, he's stupid. He doesn't know what he wants... You can't let him
stay in there if I don't get out of here. You have to p-promise me that you
won't let him in there." His voice is raspy, and he sounds so sad.
It's amazing how things have changed, not more than a few months ago he
wouldn't have cared if he fucked over someone else's life, and now... Now he's
so worried about Louis. Now he's putting him before himself.
Truth was, that Harry loved Louis like no one before, Louis was the light of
his life, literally. Without him, he wouldn't be the way he is right now.
Harry turned his body completely towards Des, "Promise me." He insisted.
Des just sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Harry, I'm not going to promise
you anything. Not all promises can be kept," he told him, stressfully cracking
his knuckles, "If Louis doesn't want to get out then that's his choice. I can't
force him."
This was the strongest fatherly example Des had ever shown towards Harry, and
it felt sort of foreign, but he was being honest with his son. It didn't seem
as though anyone was being too honest with him and that's why he had such high
hopes for being released.
"I'll promise that I'll /try/, but that's all I can offer you. I'm a lawyer.
Not a miracle worker."
And Harry's arms flew to wrap around his legs, eyes moving away from his father
and towards the white wall in front of him as he moved back to his original
position in the bed.
He remained silent for a few minutes, every single one of Des' words replaying
in his mind over and over again, before he decided to speak again, voice
distant. "Then why the fuck did you force me to stay in here? Why don't I have
that choice like he does?" He questioned. He wasn't even paying attention to
their past subject, he wasn't even planning to answer to that anymore, not for
now at least.
Des shook his head, hating the subject of Harry's past and admission to the
Institute. "Harry, I know you don't want to be here. But your mother insisted
that you were sick. And either she had you committed, or your sister would've
been taken away and you would've been under constant surveillance because she
saw you as being too dangerous. I didn't want you in here. But you have to
understand that I had to take into consideration the needs of the entire
family." he explained, not looking at Harry. He hated seeing that look on his
son's face. A mixture of anger and advanced depression. "You have no idea how
hard I tried to get your mother to change her mind. She's awful. I know that.
That's why I left her. Buy I'm trying to make everything better for you, now."
he added, turning and walking towards the door and stopping right at the frame.
"I'm really going to try, Harry. I know it's hard to believe but, things will
get better. You'll see Louis again." he said in a tone close to a mumble,
finally walking out the door.
Harry had listened silently all throughout his father's words, which was
surprising, taking in consideration how angry he was becoming with each second
that went by. He jus couldn't handle talking about his admission here, he
couldn't handle talking about his past, because he was just a kid when he got
told so many horrible things by his own mother. Things that weren't even true,
because... He wasn't insane, was he? I mean, how would he know... Insane people
don't think they're insane.
Once he felt the room go silent again, once he knew he was by himself again, he
let out a breath, his hands going to cup his face and let himself bury in the
covers of the bed.
His mind went back to thinking about Louis, just what he seemed to do most of
the time nowadays.
~~
Louis hadn't seen or heard from Des for two days now and he was starting to
think about the worst. He didn't have enough power to get either of them out of
jail and it made Louis' face heat up with both frustration and hopelessness.
That was it, he thought.
He didn't cry. It wasn't worth it. It was his fault for getting excited about
his freedom so he could only blame himself.
But what Louis didn't know was that Des really was trying. He had been on the
telephone for hours on end trying to find some sort of loophole or a set of
conditions. It was starting to seem like a feeble attempt on his end but he
owed this to Harry. For everything that's happened to him since he was little.
This was the least he could do.
~~
Anne wasn't in the mood to see Des today. She was never in the mood to see him
at all. But she had to collect the child support check for Harry's younger
sister, at least she won't have to do it any longer since Gemma's eighteenth
birthday is in a few weeks.
She went up to Des' office and didn't bother knocking, just giving herself
permission to enter.
"Des, do you have my check?" she asked, avoiding eye contact with her ex-
husband.
Anne had become quite distant and miserable ever since they split, almost
having everything to do with the fact that she was struggling with money and
Des was the one who took care of her and their children.
Des had his eyes glued to some papers he had on his desk, hand putting his
phone down, because he had barely hung up with someone that was helping him
with Louis' case.
He was a little bit startled by Anne's words though, head shooting up to look
at her, "Check?" And then he remembers, "Oh, right. The check." And hasn't had
much time to do that, because of all the work he's been doing with Harry and
Louis' problem, but he could do that in no more than a few minutes.
" Why don't you take a seat," he offered, taking out his checkbook. It's not
that he liked seeing Anne, because he really didn't, but he needed to talk to
her about something, regarding Harry of course.
Anne shook her head and crossed her arms impatiently over her chest. "Damn it,
Des. You're prepared." she stated impatiently, tapping her left foot on the
hardwood floor.
"I don't have time to sit, I have errands to run."
Which was totally a lie. She just wanted the check so she could cash it and use
it to buy stuff that wasn't for Gemma. She thought that Des knew this but he
either doesn't care or he knows that he could always give her some extra cash
for whatever Gem needs. I mean, why not? He has more money than one person
would ever need anyway.
A sigh went past Des' lips at her words, head shaking slightly to the sides as
he opened the checkbook, and put the pen down. He knew what Anne did, which was
why he gave some extra money to Gemma when Anne was not in sight.
"We have to talk about something. Sit down." He stated, looking at her, before
motioning with his hand towards the chair in front of his desk. He was
determined to have this conversation with Anne, even if it required to threaten
to not give her any money. Now, he knew /that/ would make her sit and talk.
Anne huffed, trudging over to Des' desk and sitting in the chair that was
unbelievably uncomfortable compared to Des' cushioned one.
It was always a routine of Anne's to act like she was superior to everyone even
though she had become one of the most miserable people anyone had ever had the
misfortune to know.
"Make this quick." she said, crossing her legs and giving him a look as if to
say 'this better be good use I have better things to do'.
Des shifted a little on his desk, pushing some papers away from in front of him
so he could talk comfortably with Anne, he knew that she was not going to agree
with anything that he said, but he could at least try. Try for Harry, because
he had to make it up to him.
"Have you gone to see Harry, lately?" He questioned with raised brows, not
wanting to spit the whole story all at once. But he did believe that the last
time she had seen him was the day she went with the cops and doctors to get him
from Louis' apartment. "So, have you?" He insisted.
An amused snicker escaped from Anne's lips, crossing her arms once again and
shaking her head. "What the hell for?" she asked, finally looking at Des in the
eyes. She had no reason to see the person who broke up their entire family. He
was sick and disgraceful, a total waste of valuable space.
"Why? Have you?" she asked, sort of intrigued by the subject of Des' interest
in their useless son.
And a grimace full of disgust and venom is clear in his features, no wonder
they split up;; because of this kind of things she did, that's why.
Des nodded his head, "I have in fact gone to see him, actually I think I went a
few days ago.." He told her, before continuing with what he was going to say.
"He could get better if we gave him the chance to." He stated as a matter of
fact, "if /you/ gave him the chance to."
Anne forced a laugh from her throat, her head flying backwards in artificial
enthusiasm. "You actually believe that?" she asked rhetorically, not expecting
a satiable answer.
"Des, he's fucked up, okay? Even when we were together all you talked about was
Harry. Wanting to get him out and get him some therapy and go visit him and
bring him things. You wanted to have a relationship with him. It's pointless.
He's not going to change. I've accepted that, and I've also gotten over it. But
you just can't let him go can you?"
Des shook his head, "I have never been able to understand why you never wanted
to visit him, why you just wanted to drop him in that place and never come
back. As if he was some kind of disease you had to get rid of... But he's your
own son, Anne. Don't you realize that? " he questioned, "I can't let him go,
because he's my son. And he /can/ get better if you'd only let him get out,
he's fine with the medications and some therapy, plus... This kid he's been
with, he's changed Harry in a way. A good way, I don't think locking them both
is good for either of them, don't you get it?"
Anne nodded her head, giving Des a wry expression. "You know about him? About
Harry's little fucktoy?" she said, her inevitable hostility peeking through
more and more by the second.
"You do realize that Louis is the boy that Harry raped, right?"
There's no way that Anne was going to consent to letting Harry released even
under careful supervision. "Des, this is hopeless and so is your argument. He's
useless. They should just fry him already."
"I know the whole story, no need to remind me of it..." Des told her, before
continuing to talk. "God, you're heartless! How can you talk like that about
someone that's made of your own blood, your own genes..." He shook his head,
"You shouldn't even have a say in any of this. You're the one that made his
life miserable in the first place!" That and something else. Something Des
knows all about.
"He's gonna get out of that dammed place whether you willingly want it or not!"
He exclaimed, voice strong. He stood up from the chair, and rested his hands on
the desk as he leaned forward. " This is your chance to do it, to sign the
papers needed and I'll give you what you most cherish in this world... " oh the
money, she's all about the money.
Anne's eyes focused on Des with more resentment and hatred than she has ever
shown anyone else before. "You son of a bitch," she spat. The irony of that
statement was quite hilarious actually because Harry would definitely be taking
that role.
"You know what? Fine! Get him out. Let him go around in public where he won't
be able to control himself. He'll be back in that nut hut again in a few weeks.
Maybe even days after he's released. But he's not my problem anymore." she
rambled in anger.
"Just tell me where to sign and give me my god damned check."
And a successful grin spread across Des' features at her words, he should've
started offering her money before anything else, shouldn't he? That would have
been way easier.
"Great," he said, sitting back on his chair and grabbing his check book again,
signing the designated amount of money he had to give her that day.
He ripped the paper off and extended his hand, offering her it. "Here's your
check, you'll get the rest of the money, along with the papers later today."
~.
Anne was still boiling with rage from the meting at Des' office a few hours
ago. Why does she always have to explain herself to him? Why can't Des
understand that Harry is sick? She just doesn't get it. All she had to do,
though, was sign her name at the bottom of a contract and it was out of her
hands. Harry would be Des' problem now. Not hers. She knew he wouldn't last too
long in public anyway, or so she figured.
She put the papers in an envelope and had them put in the mailbox to get sent
to Des' office, and he would take care of the rest. ---There was no way Gemma
was going to find out about any of this. Yes, Harry is her brother, but Anne
doesn't wanter her to be influenced  by him and his horrible behavior. Well,
because.. you know, a seventeen year old girl doesn't haver he own conscience,
they tend to do what others do for the sake of fitting in, or being cool. Who's
to say she even wants to see him, anyway? 
Chapter End Notes
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End Notes
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